


Future Present, Future Past

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-20
Updated: 2008-02-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8089003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: What's the deal with the Vulcans/Romulans? Why does Trip have such "Dark Emotion"? And When will Malcolm Reed meet Matt Hayes? Some Answers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: People have asked me â€œWhy does Trip in this AU have so much â€œdark emotion?â€ (from The Logic of Emotion), â€œWhat the heck is going on with Malcolmâ€™s â€˜abilityâ€™?â€ (Whips, Chains and Plomeek Soup) and â€œWhatâ€™s the deal with the Vulcans/Romulans?â€ (May the Wind be at our Backs) and â€œWhen is Malcolm gonna meet Matt Hayes??â€ (Ditto MWBB and TLOE)  
  
Whew. :) Iâ€™m gonna try to answer some of those questions in the next few fics. In â€œWCPSâ€, Dr. Malcolm Reed told Hoshi that he has a kind of sensitivity to his environment that tells him when something isnâ€™t quite right.  
  
Unfortunately, this is one of those times.  
  
Rating: T/PG-13 for language and some violence. If either squicks you out, be warned!  


* * *

****

One

Enterprise, March 27, 2155, enroute to Palmyra Three, 2345 hours.

_He swore again as the deck pitched underneath his feet. How the bloody hell could he operate with all this commotion? Despite the crazy evasive maneuvers from Ensign Tâ€™Pol up on the Bridge, his hands were still steady, patiently coaxing the piece of shrapnel like a jeweler cutting a fine diamond._

_He nodded to Lieutenant Cutler. â€œAll right. Thatâ€™s done it. Close up here, Liz, and Iâ€™ll be in Surgical Ward Two.â€_

_Liz nodded back and started the post-op as he stripped off the soiled surgical gloves and gown and went back into the pre-surgical room directly off the wards. After the rays disinfected and cleansed him, he reached for another set of scrubs and shrugged it on. Then he hurried back into the fray._

_The Sickbay doors opened and armored soldiers stepped in. Malcolm caught a glimpse of them: shiny black armor with helmets that obscured their faces. They raised their rifles and started shooting randomly. Two of his techs and three of his patients went down in the initial onslaught; soon the air smelled of burned electrical wiring and dirty smoke from destroyed consoles._

_â€œSecurity to Sickbay!â€ he roared and ducked under a biobed as a fusillade of shots rang over his head. He couldnâ€™t abandon his patients! Liz was trapped in the surgical ward, but he was sure she could hear what was going on outside._

_His hand found a tray of surgical instruments and he armed himself with a pair of scalpels and several hyposprays. If only he had a phase rifle! But he was a doctor, not an armory officer...still, it was times like these that he would trade places with Trip Tucker in a minute..._

_Stealthily, he crawled in a huge circle around Sickbay, positioning himself behind one of the invaders. One of Hippocratesâ€™ mantras echoed in his head, â€œFirst, do no harm...â€_

_Obviously, Hippocrates never had his Sickbay attacked by armored soldiers._

_His target sensed his presence and began to turn around, but Malcolm tackled him to the floor, hearing the â€œOoof!â€ as the manâ€™s head impacted onto the floor. The soldier didnâ€™t move, unconscious. Smoothly, Malcolm came up and drove his fist into a second soldierâ€™s jaw, and that man fell like a stone. He saw a third come up behind him and threw one of the scalpels, slicing into that soldierâ€™s firing arm._

_A single figure stepped out of the smoke; its arrival distracted Malcolm enough that he didnâ€™t hear his attacker until an arm encircled his throat and yanked him backward. He tried to pull the man off balance, but he didnâ€™t have any leverage, and he felt his vision begin to dim..._

_A familiar voice hissed into his ear, **â€œYou will never have her. She is mine.â€**_

_Malcolm tried to choke out his answer, but he didnâ€™t have enough air to do it. A second pair of hands grabbed his wrists and took his scalpels and hyposprays away from him, then pulled him down toward the deck as the arm of the first soldier dug into his windpipe. Darkness danced at the corners of his vision and threatened to overwhelm him._

_Then a burst of pain blossomed in the center of his chest. He managed to move his head enough to look down at the wicked-looking dagger that had somehow gotten lodged there. A cold part of his brain noted that it was perfectly positioned, between the ventricles of his heart. The hands holding him abruptly let him go; he fell to his knees, then onto his right side. Another part of him heard screaming from the surgical ward, but he couldnâ€™t move._

_He collapsed on his back and stared up at the three helmeted soldiers above him. The three who had killed him. Slowly, they removed their helmets, one by one. The first one didnâ€™t surprise him; heâ€™d heard the manâ€™s voice._

_Captain Matthew Hayes._

_â€œBloody bastard,â€ Malcolm whispered. Hayes didnâ€™t respond, but only gave him a smirk of satisfaction._

_The second sent a pain-racked shudder through him. Lieutenant Commander Trip Tucker. The Southerner gazed down at him with an expression of contempt, as if he was some sort of bug under his boot. Tucker cocked his head to the side, to indicate the third person. Malcolm used the last of his strength to look in that direction..._

_â€œIâ€™m so sorry, Malcolm, but you know too much.â€ He closed his eyes and felt Hoshi Satoâ€™s kiss on his bloody lips, one last time, gentle and sweet, just like he had imagined, and felt her fingers stroke his goatee in a comforting gesture, move under his chin, dropping to the hilt of the knife in his chest..._

_He screamed in agony as she ran him through._

**********

He sat bolt upright in his bunk on _Enterprise_ , his hand flying to the center of his chest to find the skin unbroken and whole. He opened his eyes; the light sensors detected his movement and eased the lights to a low glow. Malcolm glanced around his quarters, at the volumes of medical books on the shelves, the pictures of his parents and sister on the walls, at the Vulcan meditation candle on his desk. With a sigh, he allowed himself to collapse back onto the pillow. He was safe, it was only a dream...

But he hadnâ€™t had a dream that realistic in a long time, not since...He frowned as he tried to remember. Not since his residency at the Vulcan Medical Academy. Before heâ€™d met Doctor Tâ€™Les and Ensign Tâ€™Pol, Soval and Tâ€™Pau, and Minister Vâ€™Lar...he had thought at the time that he was going mad.

Just like right now. Malcolm leaned forward and pressed his fists against his temples. A Vision this powerful couldnâ€™t be ignored, but what did it mean? Hayes, Tucker, and Hoshi Sato had â€œkilledâ€ him...two of them were friends, but heâ€™d never met Hayes, though heâ€™d heard plenty about him of late...

One of them was his Captain and a woman with whom heâ€™d felt an instant connection, from the very first time heâ€™d met her on Vulcan...and she was Captain Hayesâ€™s friend and lover. Heâ€™d heard all the rumors, but managed to ignore them until now...

His doorbell chimed. Chimed again. Malcolm grabbed his robe and tied it securely around him. â€œYes?â€

â€œDoc, you okay? I heard you cry out...everything all right in there? Câ€™mon, open the door before I bust it down. Youâ€™ve got me worried.â€

Malcolm felt a sudden jolt of fear, but he suppressed it. Quickly, he crossed the cabin and hit the door entry control. Lieutenant Commander Trip Tucker, _Enterprise_ â€™s Armory Officer, stood there, his face tense with worry. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and blue sweat pants and a had a towel thrown over one shoulder; Trip had obviously come straight from the gym.

â€œIâ€™m fine,â€ Malcolm replied. Trip raised an eyebrow in a â€œyeah, right, tell me another oneâ€ kind of expression. Malcolm sighed and added, â€œIâ€™m fine now. I had a nightmare.â€

â€œWanna talk about it?â€ Trip asked in a voice that brooked no choice of refusal.

â€œItâ€™s lateâ€”â€œ

â€œIâ€™ve got Beta shift tomorrow, so donâ€™t worry about keepinâ€™ me up. â€˜Sides, you still look like death warmed over. Hate to see you end up in your own Sickbay â€˜fore long.â€

Malcolm rolled his eyes and said, â€œYouâ€™re incorrigible, Mister Tucker.â€

â€œYeah, thatâ€™s what Soval tells me all the time, and youâ€™re both right.â€

Malcolm stepped aside for Trip to come in and he distracted himself by finding two cups and a teapot. He selected a kind of Vulcan tea that Tâ€™Pol was particular to; he also found it wonderfully calm and refreshing. While the tea was steeping, Malcolm watched as Trip took in the furnishings in his quarters. The Armory Officer paused by the holopictures of his family.

â€œYour parents?â€

â€œYes, Stuart and Mary Reed, and my sister, Madeline.â€ Malcolm smiled as he touched the frame of the one Trip was looking at. â€œYouâ€™d get along with my father; he was a gunnery officer in the Royal Navy. Retired a few years ago; he and my mother live in Malaysia now.â€

â€œI can see the family resemblance,â€ Trip commented. â€œSo he was a gunnery officer and youâ€™re a doctor?â€

Malcolm chuckled. â€œYes. He wouldâ€™ve liked it better if Iâ€™d have followed in his footsteps...but we are of different temperaments. My mother is headmistress of a public school in Kota Bharu and my sister is currently a curator at the Tate Museum in London.â€

â€œAh. So you and your dad talk?â€

â€œAll the time. He can be quite the chatterbox, if you can get him to open up enough. Heâ€™s in Research and Development in the Royal Navy...perhaps I can ring him and tell him youâ€™d like to meet him.â€

Trip chuckled and shook his head. â€œYeah, Iâ€™d like that...later. You arenâ€™t getting out of this so easily, Doc.â€

Malcolm sighed theatrically as he poured the tea into the cups and handed one to Trip. â€œAs I said, incorrigible.â€

â€œGot that right. Now, câ€™mon, spill it. Sounds like it was somethinâ€™ pretty scary to have you yell like that.â€ Trip settled into a chair and held the cup between his hands.

Malcolm eased into his office chair and told Trip as much as he could remember. He left out the part where his killers had revealed their identities. Trip didnâ€™t interrupt as he talked, and Malcolm felt oddly better after having shared his experience. Trip sipped his tea after Malcolm was finished and looked at him with a speculative look.

â€œWere you ever a combat medic, Doc?â€

â€œNot formally, but I was with several rescue and relief missions from the Vulcan Medical Academy. Iâ€™ve seen many horrors.â€ Malcolmâ€™s voice was quiet. â€œAnd Iâ€™ve dealt with the aftermath. It reminds me why I decided to become a doctor, to help others and ease their pain.â€

Trip smiled. â€œYeah, I can see that, but thatâ€™s gotta be rough on you. I can sympathize...as an Armory Officer, I get in the middle of some pretty awful situations and sometimes...you gotta do what you gotta do. Doesnâ€™t mean I haveta like what I do, sometimes.â€ His smile vanished. â€œIâ€™m expectinâ€™ us to get in some trouble out here; no one knows whatâ€™s in this area of space yet. Maybe your subconscious is tellinâ€™ you that too, and that you should be prepared.â€

Malcolm nodded. â€œThat makes sense. Expect the worst, hope for the best.â€

â€œYeah. Thatâ€™s my own personal mantra,â€ Trip said. â€œItâ€™s an occupational hazard to be expectinâ€™ trouble just around the corner.â€

â€œSo how do you keep your good cheer then, Lieutenant Commander?â€

Trip sighed and replied, â€œThatâ€™s Trip; weâ€™re both off duty. And I dunno, I guess Iâ€™m the kind who tries to enjoy life as much as I can now, â€˜cause there might not be a later. Eat, drink and be merry and all that. And between you, me and the bulkhead, I _enjoy_ livinâ€™.â€

Malcolm chuckled. â€œYes, I can see that. I suppose thatâ€™s a healthy attitude to have.â€

Trip finished his tea and gave the cup back to Malcolm. â€œYou sure youâ€™re gonna be okay, Doc?â€

â€œI will be. Thank you, Trip.â€

â€œNo problem. If you need to talk, you know where I am. See you later, then?â€

â€œOf course. Good night, Trip.â€

â€œNight, Doc.â€ With a grin, Trip left the room. Malcolm stared after him as he left. _The man has missed his calling; he would be an excellent psychiatrist._ The image of Trip taking notes as a client lay on a chaise lounge chair made him laugh aloud.

He sighed and went back to his bunk. Heâ€™d talk to Ensign Tâ€™Pol in the morning; perhaps she would have some insights regarding this strange Vision and some counsel for him.

When he finally got back to sleep, it was deep and dreamless.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
An unexpected event plunges the crew's mission into chaos.  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Two

Ensign Tâ€™Pol leaned forward on her elbows as she replayed the message from her mother. She could clearly see the jungle foliage over Doctor Tâ€™Lesâ€™s shoulder. Tâ€™Lesâ€™s eyes sparkled as she talked, even as her features were impassive.

â€œI hope this transmission finds you well, daughter. The second archaeological excavation at Beta Polaris is going better than we expected. We have compiled Doctor Tâ€™Maruiâ€™s previous information on the Vâ€™tosh kaâ€™tur and have added to that compilation extensively. Doctor Tâ€™Nomi has analyzed the mosaics that Jonathan Archer found. I think you will find this interesting.â€

The screen split into two halves, with the image of a faded mosaic on the left side and her mother on the right. Tâ€™Lesâ€™s voice continued, â€œTâ€™Nomi reconstructed what this mosaic looked like nearly eight centuries ago, based on the trace amounts of pigmentation left on the stones. I would like you to focus your attention on the upper right quadrant of the screen.â€

Tâ€™Pol tapped buttons on her console and zoomed in on the area. She saw it immediately: a tall Vulcan standing on a hill overlooking the Beta Polaris settlement, his head tipped toward the sky and one hand raised above his head. The Vulcan wore a strange gray and scarlet uniform and black boots, his hair cut in a severe military style.

â€œFascinating,â€ she murmured. Sheâ€™d seen this figure before, in a hologram sheâ€™d found deep underground, among the settlementâ€™s ruins.

â€œIn comparison to a mosaic that you found in the underground corridor...I think you would find the significance of this find quite disturbing, Tâ€™Pol.â€ Tâ€™Les touched the PADD in her hands and the left side of Tâ€™Polâ€™s screen transformed into another mosaic. This one featured a long, horizontal scene, of winged birds in the sky beaming up hapless Vulcan into their bellies. Again, the colors sharpened and cleared under Tâ€™Nomiâ€™s reconstruction efforts and Tâ€™Pol saw the figures clearly.

She shot forward in her chair, her eyebrows raised almost to her hairline. The figures within the beams wore the same uniforms...and they were smiling. Tâ€™Polâ€™s long fingers touched the controls and panned around the image. Many figures on the ground did not wear the uniforms; their tunics mirrored the Vulcan style of times long past. Those figures were bent in awkward angles, mouths open in silent screams of pain.

Tâ€™Pol shuddered, suddenly glad she was in her quarters and not on the Bridge. She tapped the comm button again, and Tâ€™Lesâ€™s image continued her lecture.

â€œThis indicates that some of our own brethren are responsible for the disappearance of the Beta Polaris colony so many centuries ago. It is not known if there was some sort of schism of some kind. Doctor Tâ€™Nu hypothesizes that the _Vâ€™tosh kaâ€™tur_ might have developed some kind of advanced technology, then returned to destroy the colony. All this is conjecture; we have no evidence of their ships or their beam devices. Half of my team still believe that this is only an allegorical story that represents their destruction.â€

Tâ€™Les leaned forward, her tone dropping lower than usual. â€œSuch is also the belief of Vâ€™Lar and Tâ€™Pau. Soval and I have a different thought on the matter, but as I have said before, we have no proof. Tâ€™Pol, I authorize you to share this with the senior staff of your vessel, no one else. If my theories are correct, we might indeed have relatives among the stars, as Tâ€™Marui thought. I will contact you again when I have sufficient time to do so. Peace and long life, my daughter.â€

Tâ€™Lesâ€™s image winked out. Tâ€™Pol sat back in her chair, stunned. _Did Mother just say that Tâ€™Maruiâ€™s theories may actually be plausible? That is extraordinary, to say the least. It is not surprising that neither Tâ€™Pau or Vâ€™Lar give any credence to Tâ€™Maruiâ€™s thoughts, but...extraordinary._

The sound of the red alert siren broke her out of her musings. Lieutenant Jonathan Archerâ€™s voice called, â€œAll senior staff report to Conference Room One immediately. Repeat, report to Conference Room One immediately.â€

Tâ€™Pol touched the communication button on her desk. â€œAcknowledged. I will be there in five minutes.â€ She grabbed her PADD and transferred the information on it. Then she tucked it under her arm and left her quarters.

**********

Commander Travis Mayweather stood at the holographic screen of Palmyra Three. The surface of the planet was dotted with dark red patches and green stripes. Enterpriseâ€™s First Officer didnâ€™t wear his usual friendly smile; his handsome features were tense with anger and worry. 

â€œWe received their distress call two hours ago,â€ Travis said. â€œIt was garbled, but we managed to decipher both the call and the sensor data they sent us. According to the colonyâ€™s governor, an orbital bombardment came in the middle of their night and caught them unaware. The major target zones are outlined in red.â€

â€œMostly in the southern hemisphere,â€ Trip said grimly. â€œRight where most of their agricultural fields are.â€

â€œYes.â€ Travisâ€™s expression darkened even more. â€œTheir colonial infrastructure in the northern hemisphere was left mostly intact, which indicates to me that whoever attacked them wanted to cripple them, not destroy them.â€

â€œAn invasion?â€ Malcolm said softly.

"Wouldn't they have taken out the colony's defense platforms if it was?" Trip asked. "If they had wanted to destroy the planet, wouldn't that be the first thing they'd do?"

"Not if they wanted to preserve the platforms for some reason," Travis pointed out. "Save them some rebuilding later."

Trip's expression darkened. "If they targeted any of our rescue ships with our own weaponry..."

"Exactly," Travis echoed.

"Still seems rather arrogant of them." Heads turned at Malcolm's remark. "To leave the defense platforms intact. It sounds as if they don't consider the colony's weapons to be much of a threat to them."

Hoshi's dark brown eyes were cold orbs. â€œDoctor Reed has a point, and that doesn't bode well for how powerful the attackers' weapons are. We might find that out soon. The closest Starfleet installation is Space Station Salem One, and all communication and telemetry with Salem One were cut off abruptly at one-fifteen this morning. We have to assume that the space station was either crippled or destroyed.â€

â€œThere were three subspace communication buoys between Salem One and Palmyra Three,â€ Lieutenant Jonathan Archer added. â€œAll three went dead at the same time as Salem One. According to the time indexes, whoever it was attacked Salem One first, then went on to the colony.â€

â€œMeaning theyâ€™re encroaching into the system, not out of it,â€ Trip commented.

Hoshi nodded. â€œOur orders are clear. We will render assistance to Palmyra Three and investigate into the attacks. _Columbia_ is on a parallel course with us and will rendezvous with us in nine hours. _Shenandoah, Vâ€™Etoru_ and _Blannek_ are ferrying medical supplies and personnel. _Tâ€™Lien, Agamemnon,_ and _Sevruk_ are responding to Salem One. Malcolm, weâ€™re expecting a massive medical emergency; Iâ€™d like you to get your medical staff and Sickbay prepared.â€

Malcolm nodded, but Tâ€™Pol noticed he didnâ€™t look directly at the captain. â€œWeâ€™ll be ready.â€

â€œCommander Phlox is converting Cargo Bays Three and Four into auxiliary medical bays. Trip, I want weapons systems on full alert. Whoever did this might be still lurking around in the system and we might end up in a firefight.â€

â€œNo problem, Capâ€™n.â€ There was no trace of the affable Southerner; he was all business. â€œKnew weâ€™d have to test out those photon torpedoes sooner or later...wish it wasnâ€™t like this though.â€

â€œJon, send a Priority One to Starfleet and warn them about the possibility of defense weapon fire from the planet, then monitor the channels between us and Palmyra Three. Travis and Tâ€™Pol, I want you two to power up our shuttlepods because weâ€™re going to need them.â€ At Travisâ€™s and Tâ€™Polâ€™s nods, Hoshi said, â€œAll right, people, letâ€™s do it. Dismissed.â€

The senior staff went about their duties, calmly and not hurrying, as if theyâ€™d served together for years instead of mere weeks. Tâ€™Pol stuffed the PADD into the breast pocket of her uniform. Her motherâ€™s news could wait. She managed to squeeze into the turbolift before the doors shut.

â€œLooks like weâ€™re gonna be in the thick of things,â€ Travis commented. He glanced at Tâ€™Pol. â€œYouâ€™re one of our best pilots; we might need you at a momentâ€™s notice.â€

â€œI understand, Commander,â€ she replied evenly. She glanced at Malcolm Reed, who seemed lost in thought. â€œDoctor?â€

â€œEh?â€ Malcolm started, then realized sheâ€™d spoken to him. â€œForgive me, Ensign, I was thinking about what will be needed on the planet.â€

â€œUnderstandable.â€ Yes, it was understandable that Malcolm would be distracted, but she sensed a dark cloud over him that concerned her. Then, another matching surge of darkness from a different source...Trip Tucker, too, had a grim expression, but somehow, it seemed that the Armory Officer wasnâ€™t surprised at the turn of events.

Trip caught her look of concern, then said, â€œExpect the worst, hope for the best.â€

She nodded in agreement. â€œIndeed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: There are more clues to the identity of who attacked the colony. Plus, the long-awaited meeting of Matt Hayes and Malcolm Reed.  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Three

**Chief Medical Officerâ€™s Official Log: March 30, 2155**

We have concentrated most of the relief effort in the southern hemisphere, where the casualty rate is highest. Most of Palmyra Threeâ€™s crop fields and aquafarms have been completely destroyed, but the Vulcans have sent their best biochemical and agricultural engineers to help repair the land. The colonists are a hardy breed; their leader vows to stay and rebuild their lives here. Some of them will have to go back to Earth for medical attention, but they say they will return to Palmyra Three.

I am impressed at the speed and cooperation of the Terran, Vulcan and Andorian medical teams. Perhaps there will be a time that such fast response will be the norm. I can only hope it will be soon...

**Malcolm Reedâ€™s Personal Log: March 30, 2155**

Iâ€™ve managed to avoid both Trip Tucker and Hoshi Sato for the past three days. Tripâ€™s been concerned with sector security, while Hoshi has been in conference with the captains of the other ships. Tâ€™Polâ€™s shuttling supplies and patients to and from the planet, so I havenâ€™t seen much of her either.

Nevertheless, I cannot help but feel a sense of foreboding. Despite what my outer senses tell me, my inner sense tells me that _this is all wrong._ I cannot put my finger on just what, but I cannot deny the strong feeling. I only hope that Iâ€™m the one who is wrong, but prior experience has taught me that will not be the case...

**********

Malcolm knelt next to a young woman as she lay on a stretcher. He blew out a sigh of relief; she didnâ€™t have any internal injuries, which was fortunate. She and three others had been trapped in their hydro-hauler for days. Theyâ€™d survived on sea kelp and recycled water until theyâ€™d been rescued. He shivered; being trapped underwater was one of his worst nightmares.

â€œThank you, Doctor,â€ she whispered, her voice a thin thread.

He smiled down at her and squeezed her shoulder. â€œYouâ€™re welcome, Rachel. Youâ€™re extraordinarily brave, you know.â€

She managed a smile. â€œWeâ€™re survivors, sir. We make do.â€

It was a familiar refrain. He patted her shoulder and called for the other orderlies to take her to more comfortable quarters. Then he checked the other colonists. One of them had broken his wrist, another had torn a quadriceps muscle, but Doctor Rosie Arroyo had set their injuries with a firm but gentle touch. He couldnâ€™t have done it better himself.

â€œDoctor Reed?â€

He glanced up at Doctor Arroyoâ€™s voice. _Columbia_ 's chief medical officer was the physical opposite of him: much shorter and muscular, with blonde hair and a brassy Hispanic-accented lilt. â€œWhat is it, Rosie?â€

â€œOver here, Malcolm.â€ Rosie Arroyo waved him over to her side. She was examining the body of the hydro-hauler chief, whoâ€™d been on an open-topped boat during the attack. â€œLook at this. Itâ€™s the same pattern as the others.â€

Malcolm knelt next to her and scanned the burns on the manâ€™s body with a trained eye. Yes, there was a definite pattern to the burns, a pattern that couldnâ€™t be done by a laser bombardment from space. â€œFrom a phase pistol?â€

â€œSome kind of laser weapon,â€ Arroyo confirmed, gazing at the scanner in her hand. â€œSome molecular disruption right here, and here. Any more and it wouldnâ€™t have left a body.â€

Malcolm bit his lip as a cold chill came over him. â€œHis face is untouched.â€

â€œDo you think he was left as a warning?â€ Her voice was steady, but her large dark eyes reminded Malcolm of Hoshi Sato.

â€œI donâ€™t know, but this is the fifth person so far whoâ€™s died of similar injuries.. Have we IDâ€™ed this man?â€

Rosie found the identification tag tied around the manâ€™s wrist. â€œMaster Abram Jenner, owner of Terra-Centauri Aquafarms Incorporated. Probably some kind of contractor hired by the Palmyra colonists.â€

Malcolm grunted. â€œI think weâ€™d better tell Lieutenant Commander Tucker and Major Kemper about this.â€

â€œYes. If the invaders actually came here, why arenâ€™t any of the survivors talking about it?â€

He scowled. â€œEither they donâ€™t want to talk...or they canâ€™t.â€

**********

Major Nathan Kemper shook his head in complete astonishment. Although heâ€™d known Trip Tucker for the better part of ten years, it always amazed him how Trip could coax witnesses to talk or suspects to confess. Part of it was Tripâ€™s natural charm, and part of it was a refusal to take no as an answer. That was what made Tucker such a skilled investigator. Kemper wished he had half of the manâ€™s ability. 

Richard Mastraland had seen one of the attackers appear out of the fields like magic, mowing down anyone and anything that moved. Kemper didnâ€™t blame Mastraland for not being willing to relive the memory. He opened up reluctantly to Tripâ€™s gentle prodding, then suddenly, the story poured out of him like a waterfall.

â€œ...Had two arms, two legs, a head...but thatâ€™s all I can tell you,â€ Mastraland said. â€œThey were all suited up in black armor lined with scarlet, with helmets. Couldnâ€™t see their faces, but they moved like some sorta army. And you know the scariest part?â€ His voice dropped to a whisper. â€œThey were all completely silent. No one said a word. It was as if they didnâ€™t need to, as if it was something theyâ€™re all used to doing. Like it was business as usual.â€

Trip glanced at Nate, and Nate returned the concerned look. â€œJeebus,â€ Trip whistled. â€œThatâ€™s freaking scary.â€

â€œYeah. We were terrified. Some of us tried to lose â€˜em among the crops, but they found us anyway. Just used some kinda weapon...nothing Iâ€™ve seen before, kinda like laser rifles, but a little smaller, and it was a fast thing, I think one of â€˜em got off five or six shots in one go.â€

â€œHow many people did you see?â€ Trip asked, keeping his tone even. â€œGimme a rough guess if you can.â€

Mastraland thought for a moment, then answered, â€œI remember seeinâ€™ at least four in my section of the field, but there had to be more than that. Eight, maybe, since they moved in pairs. Then they left as quickly as they came...â€

â€œNo shuttlepods?â€ Nate asked.

â€œNah. No transports. I donâ€™t know how they managed it. For all I know, maybe they flew.â€

â€œTransporters,â€ Trip presumed. â€œThatâ€™s the only thing I can think of.â€

Mastraland snorted and said, â€œRisky way to attack someone. I wouldnâ€™t want my molecules scrambled up wrong.â€

Nate gave Trip another look. Yes, using the transporter was a risky proposition, but he believed that it could give them a tactical edge in missions like that...easy in, easy out. Apparently, the invaders had already perfected this strategy. _Something to tell Captain Hayes,_ Nate thought.

â€œThey didnâ€™t give any clue to why they attacked you?â€ Trip persisted.

â€œNope, like I said they didnâ€™t say a word. No rhyme or reason to it. It was as if they were just making some sort of statement, like â€˜weâ€™re here and donâ€™t you forget itâ€™.â€

Trip nodded and clapped Mastraland on the shoulder gently. â€œThanks for helpinâ€™ us big, Richard. Why donâ€™t you lie back and get some rest? If anythinâ€™ else happens to come across your mind, youâ€™ll let me know, okay?â€

â€œSure. Iâ€™ll let you know.â€ Mastraland tried to smile, but couldnâ€™t. Trip clapped him on the shoulder again, then left the medical tent, Nate at his heels. As soon as they were a good distance away, Trip heaved a huge sigh.

â€œWell, that checks out with what the others said, Nate. Black armor with red, packinâ€™ some nasty guns and totally silent. I donâ€™t blame â€˜em all for wantinâ€™ to forget.â€

â€œThatâ€™s what the survivors of Salem One said too,â€ Nate added in a quiet tone. â€œA relatively small strike force appeared out of nowhere ahead of a full-scale assault, then they just left.â€

â€œI think we got enough to tell Captain Sato and Captain Hayes, but Iâ€™m gonna be the first to tell ya that whoever these people are...theyâ€™re beginning to scare the hell out of me.â€

â€œYeah, me too.â€ Nate knew that Trip wouldnâ€™t admit that easily and again, he was thankful that Trip was on his side and not the enemyâ€™s. His communicator went off and he answered the call, â€œKemper.â€

â€œDoctor Arroyo, Major,â€ came a womanâ€™s accented voice. â€œCould you and Lieutenant Commander Tucker come to the main medical tent immediately? Doctor Reed and I may have found a clue to our mysterious â€˜friendsâ€™.â€

At Tripâ€™s nod, Nate answered, â€œOn our way, Rosie.â€

**********

Rosie Arroyo had decided to go by the mess tent and bring back some food for herself and Malcolm. As soon as he was alone, he drew an arm across his tired eyes. Nearly twenty-six hours without rest, and he was feeling it. But he couldnâ€™t afford to rest now, not when they were on the trail of whoever was responsible for this atrocity... 

â€œDoctor, you must rest.â€

His back stiffened at the quiet steel within the voice. â€œIâ€™m all right.â€

â€œIâ€™ll make it an order if I have to.â€ The speakerâ€™s tone became a bit humorous. â€œShe warned me about how stubborn you can be. Doctor Arroyo can make the reportâ€”â€œ

Malcolm glanced over his shoulder at the man standing at the tent flap. He wore the tan outdoor-issue Starfleet uniform, covered with dirt and dust. Dark hair, green eyes, a physique that reminded Malcolm of the MACOs heâ€™d seen. Those green eyes flickered with...something...as they regarded Malcolm.

He remembered Travis Mayweatherâ€™s words: _â€œHeâ€™s got scars, under the uniform.â€_ So this was the man who had saved Trip, Jon and Soval ten years ago at the Vulcan Consulate. He looked every bit the soldier; in fact, Malcolm could _see_ him in a MACO uniform. He blinked the vision away; fatigue was dangerous in his line of work.

â€œWith all due respect, Captain,â€ Malcolm all but snapped, â€œI would like to stay.â€

Matthew Hayes still gazed at him with a speculative look. The tension between them stretched out for several more seconds, then Hayes relented. â€œVery well, but afterwards, you need to get some sleep. Eight hours of rest, minimum, Doctor Reed.â€

â€œFour hours.â€

â€œSix.â€

He knew Hayes was right, but there was still something about the man that rankled Malcolm. â€œFive and a half and thatâ€™s final.â€

Hayes laughed and shook his head. â€œAll right, Doctor, five and a half hours. Remind me not to buy a hovercar from you.â€

An unwilling smile tugged at Malcolmâ€™s lips. â€œAre you this stubborn of a bargainer, Captain Hayes?â€

â€œOnly when the welfare of my crew is concerned.â€ Hayes crossed his arms and regarded Malcolm with that unreadable expression. â€œAnd that extends to Hoshiâ€™s crew as well.â€

The corner of Malcolmâ€™s mouth went up in a dry smile. â€œYour concern is noted, sir.â€ That came out colder than heâ€™d intended, but Hayesâ€™s presence was a strain on his already frayed nerves. Perhaps it was his mention of Hoshi; he clearly remembered Hayes in his dream: _â€œYou will never have her. She is mine.â€_

Hayes matched the smile, but it didnâ€™t reach his eyes. â€œYou have it, whether you want it or not, Doctor Reed. Sheâ€™s concerned about you, whether she admits it or not. Hoshi is a good judge of character and I trust her.â€

â€œYes, she is.â€ Malcolm inclined his head. â€œYou are a lucky man, sir.â€

The captainâ€™s expression softened for a brief instant, just an instant, but Malcolm caught it. He suppressed a surge of jealousy; yes, Hayes was lucky to have a woman like Hoshi Sato in his life.

â€œMore than you know, Doctor, and she's probably more than I really deserve,â€ Hayes replied in that quiet voice.

Doctor Arroyo returned with sealed containers of food. She blinked at the sight of Hayes. â€œAh...Captain, sir, I didnâ€™t know you were dropping byâ€”have you met Doctor Reed?â€

Hayes nodded, his mask firmly back into place. â€œWe were having a chat while you were away.â€

â€œWell, we havenâ€™t eaten in twelve hours, and despite my dedication, my stomach has decided to override my sense of duty.â€ Arroyo chattered away, completely unaware of the uncomfortable tension between the two men. Malcolm hid his unease as he opened his container. _Fish and chips. Good old Rosie._

Another jovial voice echoed into the tent, and Malcolm felt his headache grow bigger. â€œHey, is that Indian food Iâ€™m smellinâ€™?â€

Arroyo grinned as Trip Tucker came inside, followed closely by Nate Kemper. â€œSure is. Want some, Lieutenant Commander?â€

â€œNah, Iâ€™ll get some later. Thanks, Rosie.â€ Trip met Malcolmâ€™s gaze and immediately sobered. His eyes flickered briefly toward Hayes, so quickly that Malcolm almost missed it, but it was there. Malcolm gave him a slight nod. â€œCapâ€™n Hayes. Good that youâ€™re here; saves us from havinâ€™ to repeat ourselves. You wanna start, Doc, or should I?â€

Malcolm nodded and said, â€œAs long as no one minds if I eat while I talk.â€ At Tripâ€™s shrug of indifference, he told Trip, Hayes and Kemper about what theyâ€™d seen on the colonistsâ€™ bodies. Arroyo chimed in with her own impressions. Then Trip and Nate related what theyâ€™d learned from Richard Mastraland.

The hole in the pit of his stomach wasnâ€™t due to the overly greasy fish and chips. The description of the soldiers uncannily matched the ones in his nightmare...had it only been three nights before? Two of the three major players were here in this tent, Hayes and Trip. Only Hoshi was missing.

_You will never have her. She is mine._ Malcolm rubbed his eyes again and shivered, although it was warm in the tent.

â€œBetween this and whatâ€™s been reported at Space Station Salem One, I think weâ€™ve got enough evidence to convince Starfleet that weâ€™re facing a new enemy,â€ Hayes said quietly. â€œDoctor Arroyo, Lieutenant Commander Tucker, can you two get your info compiled together for me and Captain Sato?â€

â€œWe can get it within the hour, Capâ€™n,â€ Trip said and Arroyo nodded in agreement.

â€œGood.â€ Hayes glanced at Malcolm. â€œDoctor Reed, get some rest. Now. Five and a half hours, minimum.â€

â€œAye, sir.â€ Malcolm nodded and stalked past Hayes and out of the tent. He could feel Tripâ€™s surprise and concern, but decided heâ€™d apologize later. Malcolm knew he was being rude to a commanding officer, but Hayes didnâ€™t call him out on it. Perhaps Hayes, on some level, understood his discomfort.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Yeah, the plot thickens. Both Jon and Hoshi have languages and linguistics in common (and oddly enough, so do I. LOL :) You get to meet Commander J.T. Daniels, Hayesâ€™s First Officer in this chapter and Malcolm gets into serious trouble.  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Four

Jonathan Archer frowned as he traced the intricate, scroll-like lettering on the screen. â€œI can see the similarities between this and the language at the time of Surak, but thereâ€™s already some kind of drift between the two, as if the colonists on Beta Polaris were already revising and rewriting their own language.â€

Hoshi nodded in agreement. â€œTaking the language to its roots and â€˜agingâ€™ them in a different direction. Itâ€™s like taking Shakespeareâ€™s English and reverting it to the old Anglo-Saxon language from the Norman Conquest, then developing it differently from there.â€ She shook her head in wonder. â€œNew words arenâ€™t unusual in a generation, but a _complete_ change of grammar structureâ€”â€œ

â€œA complete reprogramming,â€ Jon said. â€œTheir children mustâ€™ve been confused.â€

â€œNo,â€ she objected. â€œChildrenâ€™s minds are much more flexible and they can pick up language like a sponge with enough exposure. Iâ€™d think itâ€™d be the adults that would have more problems.â€

â€œPrevious knowledge getting in the way. Kind of like trying to learn Andorian and Vulcan at the same time after learning Rigellian. Vocab and rules from one interfering with the other...â€ Jon chuckled and said, â€œYeah, I found that out the hard way. Wish I had your talents with languages, Hoshi.â€

â€œAnd I wish I had your diplomatic skills. So weâ€™re even.â€ Hoshi smiled and patted Jonâ€™s arm. â€œSo, is there anything similar between the two that we can identify?â€

â€œThe occasional word or turn of phrase, some similar characters, references to ancient texts and stories, some similar religious and secular ceremonies...â€ Jon switched screens and highlighted a passage from a wall on Beta Polaris. â€œThereâ€™s one word that seems to repeat itself constantly in the colonistsâ€™ writings, Hoshi. Tâ€™Rima and Tâ€™Les have translated it as _iâ€™Rhiamanau_ , which is a corruption of the Vulcan word for â€˜chosenâ€™ or â€˜isolatedâ€™.â€

â€œMakes sense, Jon...Beta Polaris isnâ€™t exactly around the block, especially at that particular time. So they felt...isolated?â€

â€œI think itâ€™s more than a feeling. Itâ€™s written as a proper noun, like a name, not an adjective, and that makes a significant difference.â€

Hoshi sat back in her seat and considered that. The colonists must have been ostracized by the Vulcans back home. A disturbing thought occurred to her: What if the colonists hadnâ€™t left the planet voluntarily? All the historical accounts had praised the willingness of the colonists to brave the unknown for Vulcan and their loss was bitterly mourned for decades afterward.

Something didnâ€™t add up. Hoshi knew that neither Vâ€™Lar or Tâ€™Les would dare question conventional wisdom and tradition. So which story should she believe?

The comm chimed and she pressed the button. â€œSato here.â€

â€œCaptain!â€ The alarm and excitement in Travis Mayweatherâ€™s voice made her sit bolt upright. â€œSensor contact, zero three one mark two, moving at one-quarter impulse.â€

â€œTactical alert. Notify _Columbia_ and the other ships in orbit.â€ The alert rang through the ship as she and Jon came out onto the Bridge. Travis looked over at her and got out of the command chair.

â€œWeâ€™ve lost it again, sir,â€ said Lieutenant Bryan Trace. Tripâ€™s second-in-command sat at the weapons station. â€œWaitâ€”there it is.â€

â€œOnscreen,â€ Hoshi ordered. The viewscreen shifted to a clear distortion of nearby space. â€œMagnify. What _is_ that?â€

Travis shook his head. â€œThe computers canâ€™t identify it, but it seems to be some kind of spatial distortion. Itâ€™s too organized to be a random event, but I canâ€™t tell exactly what itâ€™s supposed to be.â€

It disappeared again, then reappeared on the opposite side of the screen. â€œIs there more than one of them?â€ Hoshi asked.

â€œHard to tell, Captain. It could be a single one thatâ€™s moving really fast.â€ Travis frowned as he plotted the distortionâ€™s appearances on his screen. â€œIt looks like itâ€™s moving in a zigzag pattern, coming closer to us, then moving away.â€

â€œActivate defenses,â€ Hoshi said quietly. â€œConsidering what happened to the colony and to Salem One, Iâ€™m not taking any chances. Jon, anything on subspace?â€

Jon listened for a long moment, then shook his head. â€œNothing, just static. No jamming, nothing.â€

â€œGet me _Columbia_.â€ Jon touched buttons, then nodded at Hoshi. â€œ _Enterprise_ to _Columbia_. Are you seeing what weâ€™re seeing?â€

The calm voice of Commander J.T. Daniels replied, â€œWe see it, Captain Sato, and weâ€™re monitoring it. Iâ€™ve ordered shipâ€™s defenses activated as well.â€

â€œIs Captain Hayes on the surface of the planet?â€

â€œAffirmative, but heâ€™s on his way up. Iâ€™ve told him to stay put, but he insisted on transporting up.â€

Hoshi hid a smile. Danielsâ€™s smooth, even voice reminded her of a host of a childrenâ€™s show. That calmness had an annoyed undertone to it; so Hayes and his science officer had the occasional disagreement, much to Hayesâ€™ chagrin. 

She heard Travis sigh and he shook his head as he adjusted his scans. Travis bit his lip and looked back at Hoshi.

â€œItâ€™s retreating a little, Captain, heading away from Palmya Three at one-half impulse.â€

â€œDaring us to follow it,â€ Hoshi murmured. â€œJ.T.?â€

â€œStill here, Captain.â€

â€œYou stay put. Itâ€™s trying to draw us away from the planetâ€”â€œ

Trace interrupted her from the tactical console. â€œMaâ€™am, _Vâ€™Etoru_ is moving on an intercept course at three-quarters impulse! _Blannek_ is mirroring her sister ship...I think theyâ€™re planning on boxing our visitor between them!â€

Hoshi whirled around to Jon. â€œGet Captain Vâ€™Nor on the line, now!â€

Jon shook his head and replied, â€œTheyâ€™re ignoring our hailâ€”â€œ

â€œ _Shenandoah_ is moving to secondary defense position, maâ€™am, and _Columbia_ is following suit!â€ Travisâ€™s voice suddenly grew more alarmed. â€œSurge in energy readings, directed toward _Vâ€™Etoru_ â€”â€œ

The viewscreen flared and the shockwave rocked the Bridge, sending people flying out of their seats. Hoshi grabbed onto the arm of her chair to prevent a collision with Ensign Yadnar at the helm. The lights dimmed, then came back on at half intensity, the red glow spilling over the floor.

â€œStatus report!â€ Hoshi shouted.

â€œNo damage,â€ Trace answered back. â€œ _Columbia_ and _Shenandoah_ report minor damage...Maâ€™am, the _Vâ€™Etoru_ â€”â€œ

They all stared at the limp, lifeless hull of the Vulcan ship, itâ€™s starboard side ripped open and debris tumbling out of it like a gutted fish. Suddenly, another alarm erupted, the shrill shriek of the proximity alarm.

â€œHang on!â€ shouted Ensign Yadnar as he wrenched the ship hard to port.

**********

The tremors woke Malcolm up from another dreamless stupor. The ground pitched under him and he fell out of the makeshift cot. A whine of lasers was his only warning; he rolled out of the way as a portable cabinet of medical supplies crashed down where heâ€™d been a second ago. Dust and debris rained down on him, and Malcolm braced himself in case the tent came crashing down around him. 

â€œMalcolm? Malcolm!â€ Doctor Rosie Arroyo crawled over to his side. â€œYou all right?â€

â€œWhatâ€™s going on? Is it an earthquake?â€

â€œCommander Daniels sent us a short burst... _Enterprise_ and _Columbia_ are under attack. Thatâ€™s all J.T. was able to get off before communications were cut off. We have plenty of people in the medical tents.â€

â€œCan we move them to more stable ground?â€

â€œDoctor Spelakâ€™s located a set of caves about half a kilometer from here. They arenâ€™t pretty, but itâ€™s more protected. He and the Vulcan orderlies have begun transferring patients there.â€

â€œGood. Letâ€™s help them.â€ Malcolm and Rosie quickly found several patients and loaded them up on stretchers and gurneys. Neither noticed the trembling under their feet as they worked to get the colonists to safety.Thankfully, Malcolm noticed the Vulcans went about their work without any complaints or any objections and worked alongside their Human counterparts.

â€œ...Vâ€™Nir and Shotakâ€™s moved some of the portable power generators, but thereâ€™s no time to get most of the equipment,â€ shouted Trip Tucker. The Armory officer was among the last of the people to take cover.

â€œEquipment can be replaced; doctors and Armory officers canâ€™t,â€ Malcolm hollered back. â€œCome on, Trip!â€

â€œRight behind ya, Doc!â€

They scrambled over rocky ground as the sky whined overhead. Malcolm spotted several Starfleet officers directing people into the caves. One of them was Matthew Hayes; he nodded as Malcolm and Trip brought up the rear of the line.

â€œThatâ€™s everyone,â€ Trip gasped. â€œI thought you were headinâ€™ up to your ship.â€

â€œChange of plans. Transporters donâ€™t work when your defense systems are up.â€ Hayesâ€™s head snapped towards his left. â€œGet down!â€

Malcolm hit the ground as laser fire sliced the air over him. Matt and Trip returned fire, and through the smoke, he saw the reflection of the phase pistol beams off a face plate...set into a helmet that was outlined in scarlet.

â€œBloody hell,â€ he whispered. â€œItâ€™s them.â€ Then he turned his head to see one of the armored soldiers circling around, staying in Hayesâ€™s blind spot. The soldier raised his laser rifle and aimed at Hayesâ€™s headâ€”

There was no hesitation at what he had to do.

Malcolm exploded out of his crouch and tackled the soldier head-on. He heard a satisfying thunk as the armored invaderâ€™s head impacted the ground and the person lay still under his weight. He glanced back up and noticed a second soldier creeping up behind Trip. 

Automatically, Malcolmâ€™s hand touched something in his belt pouch and he let it fly. It whizzed through the air over Tripâ€™s shoulder and buried itself into the soldierâ€™s arm, who staggered backward in agony.

A dry smile quirked Malcolmâ€™s lips. A laser scalpel, in the pouch right next to the hyposprays...

_Oh damn. Just like in my nightmare..._ no, it wasnâ€™t the same thing. He wasnâ€™t in his Sickbay, and Hayes and Trip were fighting at his side...and Hoshi was on the ship...

An arm encircled his neck and jerked him backward. He choked out a curse and drove an elbow into the soldierâ€™s stomach, banging it hard into a black protective sheet. Then he heard a sharp command in a foreign language and sparkles danced in front of Malcolmâ€™s vision...

â€œDoc!â€ Trip shouted, but that was all Malcolm heard before all went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: Sorry for the late update...my rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia kicked up this past week and my hands havenâ€™t been up to typing lately. But yeah, the storyâ€™s picking up.  
  
Rating: T for language.  


* * *

****

Five

â€œOver there!â€

Hoshiâ€™s eyes snapped over to the left side of the viewscreen. There, for a moment, a ship coalesced into being: a slightly winged vessel in silver and gold, resembling a raptor in flight. Then its outline became fuzzy, but now that the crew knew what to look for, they were able to track it more effectively.

Ensign T'Pol, at the helm station, leaned back in her seat and narrowed her eyes at the foreign ship. It was a subtle gesture, but Hoshi saw it. "T'Pol, do you recognize it?"

"I may have seen the design before, but I cannot recall where," T'Pol replied, her words soft and careful. Hoshi knew the Vulcan had spent twelve years working for Vulcan's Ship and Space Ministry, so it _was_ possible that T'Pol had seen it before.

"Travis?"

The Boomer shook his head. "Nothing I've seen, Captain, and I've seen some strange ships." Travis's board beeped as if in confirmation. "It doesnâ€™t match anything in our database."

â€œTheyâ€™re using cloaking technology, but for some reason, itâ€™s not working right,â€ commented Lieutenant Trace at Tactical. "I'm reading wild power fluctuations, as if they're struggling to keep it stable."

The comm erupted into life. "Phlox to the Bridge."

Hoshi touched her receiver. "Go ahead, Commander."

"Captain, I'm reading the same power fluctuations. It may be an experimental cloaking device."

She frowned. "A prototype, you mean. Odd they'd use it now, when they need it working most."

Phlox's tone was calm, but she heard the engineer's thought processes turning. "I've compared it to the information that we got from the colonists and from Salem One. The same resonance frequencies, but they've been reworked in some way. It could be that it worked perfectly during the previous attacks, but their return has strained their cloaking equipment. I'll have to analyze it further."

She nodded, although she couldn't see the Denobulan. "All right, Commander, but keep this channel open."

"Acknowledged."

Lieutenant Trace's voice went up sharply. â€œTwo separate transporter beam signatures to two separate locations. One five mark nine and one five two mark six.â€

Commander Danielsâ€™ voice came over the speakers from _Columbia_.â€œDaniels to Sato. Major Kemper reports that three crewmembers have been taken. Doctor Reed, Captain Hayes and Lieutenant Commander Tucker.â€

Danielsâ€™ calm pronouncement punched a hole in Hoshiâ€™s gut. _Malcolm, Matt and Trip. They mustâ€™ve been transporting them to their ships. Why?_ The answer came close on the heels of that question. _A Starfleet doctor, a starship captain and an Armory Officer. They want information about us._

Appalled expressions all over the Bridge became ones of anger and determination. She shoved her personal feelings aside and answered in an equally calm tone, â€œAcknowledged, Commander Daniels. Commander Mayweather, can we pick up any of their biosigns?â€

Travis shook his head. â€œTheir cloaking device is interfering with sensor readings. I canâ€™t make heads or tails of â€˜em. I canâ€™t tell if theyâ€™re all on one ship or split between the two of â€˜em.â€ He straightened and tapped his keyboard. â€œIt looks like theyâ€™re both moving out of orbit, Captain.â€

She made her decision. â€œCommander Daniels, take the one on the left. Weâ€™ll get the one on the right. Jon, inform _Shenandoah_ and the other ships that our officers have been taken and that we are in pursuit. Then get me Starfleet Command.â€

Jon Archer nodded and went to work. Hoshi glanced over her shoulder to Lieutenant Trace. â€œIâ€™m going to need you at your post a little longer, Lieutenant.â€

Traceâ€™s expression was grimly understanding. â€œIâ€™m here for as long as you need me, maâ€™am.â€

â€œThanks, Bryan.â€ She nodded at Ensign Tâ€™Pol at the helm. â€œPursuit course, Ensign Tâ€™Pol, Best possible speed.â€

â€œYes, Captain.â€ Hoshi heard a slight tremble under the helmswomanâ€™s voice, but to Tâ€™Polâ€™s credit, her hands were steady on her controls.

**********

_Who are you?_

_Doctor Malcolm Reed_

_How old are you?_

_Forty two Earth years._

_What is your rank?_

_Commander._

_What is your specialty?_

_Exobiology and Exophysiology, specifically Human and Vulcan._

_What is your security clearance?_

_I donâ€™t have one. Iâ€™m a doctor._

_What do you know about biological weapons?_

_Nothing. That isnâ€™t my area of expertise. I save lives, not destroy them._

Malcolm cracked an eye open, but his vision was blurred and distorted. He saw a series of clear tubes in his arm and when he tried to move his head, he felt another tube buried in his neck. A colorless liquid bubbled in the tubes and a sense of warmth flowed through him. He fought to stay conscious, but his eyes grew heavy.

He drifted again for a time.

**********

_Who are you?_

_Malcolm Reed._

_How old are you?_

_Thirty two Earth years._

_What is your rank?_

_Lieutenant._

_What is your specialty?_

_Armory and Tactical Officer, Enterprise_

_What is your security clearance?_

_Level Two-Eight A_

_What do you know about weapon development?_

_Bugger off, you sods. Iâ€™m not telling you anything._  
\---------- 

Again, he woke up to disorientation and nausea. This time, he lay on a different cot, with a single tube in his right arm. He tried to move and his arm twitched jerkily. He closed his eyes, trying not to lose what little heâ€™d eaten. Where was he? What had happened?

It all came back to him in a rush: the attack on the medical camp, the hasty evacuation, the firefight against the armored soldiers. Heâ€™d fired his phase pistol until one of the soldiers had gotten a sleep dart in him, and that had been the end of it. _What? That isnâ€™t right. They physically restrained me until they could transport me up._ He closed his eyes again in confusion. _Whose memories do I have? Those have to be Tripâ€™s; heâ€™s the Armory Officer...why am I seeing things through his eyes, then?_

It was starting again, the Visions. He thought he gained control over their frequency and intensity, but that hard-won control had been removed, stripped away from him. It left paralyzing fear in its place. The fear of insanity, of going absolutely mad. He remembered the first one, during his two-year residency at the Vulcan Medical Academy.

_I was a doctor, but_ not _Malcolm Reed. I was an alien, working at Starfleet Medical in San Francisco, confronting another alien, whom Iâ€™d never seen before. He was my patient, but I couldnâ€™t communicate with him..._ The experience was jolting, disorienting, as if someone had ripped him from his body and stuffed him into anotherâ€™s, one that was definitely not Human at all, with all its own thoughts, morals and idiosyncrasies. When he'd come back to himself, he found himself in the cooling room where the Vulcan medical staff kept their perishable drugs cool. Despite the temperature, he'd had a raging fever of nearly thirty-nine degrees Celsius. At that point, he knew he was in trouble.

More Visions came to him, doubling in intensity and length, and nearly crippled his ability to handle his medical cases. Then Doctor Tâ€™Vau, his mentor, had introduced him to Doctor Tâ€™Les, of the Science Academy, and in turn, he got to know Tâ€™Pol, Ambassador Soval and Minister Vâ€™Lar. They helped him with his control, until he could function normally, more or less.

Now that control was gone. He had nothing.

He barely felt the tears that slid down his face.

**********

Matt Hayes found himself back in the medical tent on Palmyra Three, moments after meeting Malcolm Reed for the first time. Except things were different. He and Reed were yelling at each other, something about security protocols, for Godâ€™s sake. Reed was different; he no longer wore a medical coat, but the red stripes ofâ€“whatâ€”an Armory Officer? And himself, not the gold stripes of command. Hell, he wasnâ€™t even in Starfleet uniform. He was--- 

_A MACO? What the hell? Nate Kemperâ€™s the MACO._ He wore the oak leaf insignia of a major; Hayes wondered when heâ€™d swapped uniforms with Kemper.

Matt watched as Reed stalked out of the tent. He sighed and shook his head. _That went well. He sees me as some kind of rival for Ensign Satoâ€™s attention, in addition to taking over his department. Wonderful._ Heâ€™d grudgingly agreed to Hoshiâ€™s request to extend the hand of friendship, but Reed had to meet him halfway. Hayes, in his usual thorough manner, had read Reedâ€™s service record. The man was brilliant in his chosen profession and was respected by his Starfleet colleagues, but he also had the reputation of being...difficult at times.

For the first time, he felt his guard relax a little. _Malcolm Reed and Hoshi Sato? Not likely, if what I saw is any indication. Sheâ€™d kick him out an airlock if he decided to pull too much crap. She doesnâ€™t suffer fools gladly._ The thought reassured him. Yes, heâ€™d be courteous to Reed, but it didnâ€™t mean heâ€™d be the Armory Officerâ€™s best friend.

\----------

Lying on the alien examination table, Captain Matt Hayesâ€™s mouth went up in a smirk.

**********

â€œCommander!â€

Trip Tucker whirled around...and nearly stumbled over his own feet on the skybridge over Main Engineering. A hand steadied him and a pair of dark eyes bore into his own.

â€œUhâ€”â€œ

â€œAre you all right, sir?â€ The womanâ€™s face grew concerned. He searched his brain for her nameâ€”Lieutenant Anna Hess, his second-in-commandâ€”and shook his head to cover his confusion.

â€œSorry, just a bit distracted.â€ He managed to smile at her, even as his mind was still in disarray. â€œWhat is it?â€

â€œI got those warp test results you wanted. Looks good so far; according to the specs, we should be able to push to Warp 5.2, but these indicate we might be able nudge it up a little more.â€

He snorted. â€œDunno what the Captain might think of that. You know how cautious he is. Heâ€™ll probably think the nacelles will fall off if we break the speed limit.â€

Hess chuckled and replied, â€œYeah, but if we can give him enough evidence, we can convince him to try it.â€

â€œEven if we give him mounds of trial results, heâ€™ll still want to keep the speeding tickets off his record.â€ Trip sighed and rolled his eyes. â€œAll right, Iâ€™ll look at this; you and Rostov set up the next simulation.â€

â€œWeâ€™ll get right on it, Chief.â€ She gave him a mock salute and headed toward the access ladder.

Trip grinned and leaned his elbows on the railing. This was his Engine Room, and he worked with the best damn Engineering crew in the quadrant. All was right with the Universe.

Then a man in command gold walked through the door and Tripâ€™s smile fell off. The tall, relatively thin captain was calm, soothing and utterly in control. His oval-shaped face was, well, rather unremarkable, with his short, straight brown hair parted unevenly on one side. Trip sneaked a glance at the captainâ€™s ears; his bland expression could have been mistaken for a Vulcan's.

Apparently, it was something that Captain John Thaddeus Daniels was used to. He chuckled and raised his eyebrows at Trip and said, â€œI think Captain AG Robinsonâ€™s convinced I was switched at birth and given cosmetic surgery.â€

Trip blushed at being caught, but he sighed mentally and thought, _Trouble in Paradise._

\---------- 

And lying on the alien examination table, Lieutenant Commander Trip Tucker, Armory Officer of the Enterprise, thought, _Dammit, I_ knew _I shouldâ€™ve gone into Engineering!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: The Vulcans, Andorians and Tellarites make the situation even more complicated. If Gralâ€™s name sounds familiar, he was the Tellarite ambassador in the ENT episode â€œUnitedâ€. Whatâ€™s the deal between Shran and Hayes? And what was Trip doing for part of the ten-year gap between â€œThe Logic of Emotionâ€ and â€œMay the Wind be at our Backsâ€? You get a clue to both in this chapter.  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Six

â€œCaptain, you have an incoming call on a Priority Two channel.â€

Hoshi turned to Jon at the comm station. â€œAdmiral Forrest?â€

â€œAh, no, from the Andorian Imperial Guard.â€ Jonâ€™s eyebrows were knit in confusion.

She blinked. â€œWhy would the Andorian Imperial Guard call _me_?â€

â€œI donâ€™t know, but Captain Shran is _â€˜requestingâ€™_ to speak with you,â€ Jon answered, putting stress on the word, requesting. In Andorian, it had the same meaning as ordering. Little wonder; the Andorian words for both verbs differed by only one letter.

â€œAll right, Jon, Iâ€™ll take it in the Ready Room, and I think youâ€™d better tag along.â€

â€œNo offense, Captain, but I think I should too,â€ Jon said with a wry expression. He gestured for his relief person to take his place at the comm station and followed Hoshi into her Ready Room. Two seconds later, the image of a blue-skinned, white-haired Andorian appeared on the screen of Hoshiâ€™s terminal.

â€œCaptain Shran,â€ Hoshi said politely in Andorian. â€œI am Captain Sato.â€

Shran gazed at her for a moment, then his two antennae rose in amusement. â€œYou are smaller than I thought you would be, _Kiâ€™rhlana_. I would have thought _Tiâ€™rhlar_ Hayes would have chosen a more...robust woman for a mate.â€

Hoshiâ€™s eyebrows shot up at the strange greeting. Jon pressed his lips together in an effort not to laugh aloud. Shran had referred to her as _Kiâ€™rhlana_ , which literally translated as _mate of my brother_ , not _sister-in-law_. Obviously, Matt had done more than ratify a treaty with the Andorians when he had been on their planet.

Hoshi suddenly remembered Malcolm Reedâ€™s off-hand remark about his family in Leceister: _â€œWeâ€™re polite to strangers. Itâ€™s family, with whom we can get away with savage remarks.â€_ By that standard, Shran was already treating her like one of his own. So she dropped all pretense of politeness.

She retorted in Shranâ€™s dialect, â€œDo not underestimate me, Shran. If you know your brother, you would expect him not to select a delicate ice-cliff vine for his mate.â€

The antennae spiked in surprise, then lowered again as Shran laughed aloud. â€œWell said, Sister. So, my brother has picked wisely, then.â€ The humor disappeared from the Andorianâ€™s face as quickly as it had appeared. â€œIt is of my brother we must discuss. Is it true that an unknown enemy has taken him?â€

A sudden lump formed in Hoshiâ€™s throat, but her voice was calm as she replied in the same informal dialect, â€œYes. _Columbia_ and _Enterprise_ are in pursuit of his kidnapper. We will get him back, Shran; that I promise you.â€

â€œYou are familiar with the concept of life debts, Sister?â€ At her nod, Shran went on, â€œI owe your mate a life debt that I can never fully repay. Allow me to offer my assistance in his rescue.â€

She saw Jonâ€™s jaw drop open in surprise; Hoshi struggled to maintain her own composure. The Andorians had never offered assistance in this manner before, and the concept stunned her. Hoshi thought, _There_ has _to be another motive, other than the one heâ€™s mentioned._

â€œShran, your offer is generousâ€”â€œ

â€œI am in command of the _Kumari_ , with four other ships in my squadron. We are currently on patrol near the border of known space, and we can rendezvous with you in twelve hours, or we can meet _Columbia_ in sixteen. Either way, we can provide security and firepower...if need be.â€ Shran, seeing her hesitation, added, â€œPlease, I beg you, Sister. Family means everything to my people. _Tiâ€™rhlar_ Hayes is my brother. I must help him.â€

Hoshi and Jon exchanged looks again. Shran was correct in saying that family was important in Andorian society. If Shran considered Matt Hayes as his "brother", then he was obligated to help. Of course, if Shranâ€™s squadron joined _Enterprise_ â€”or _Columbia_ ,as it was Mattâ€™s commandâ€”it could lead to complications.

Jon cleared his throat and asked, â€œCaptain, is the Imperial Guard aware of your proposal?â€

â€œYes, Diplomat Archer. In fact, they were the ones who informed me of the situation in the first place.â€ Shranâ€™s antennae flicked in annoyance. â€œMy superiors have sent a message to your Starfleet Command. The Vulcans choose to sequester themselves in meetings, but do nothing. We Andorians will not wait for the enemy to take the fight to us. We will meet them head-on.â€

Hoshi nodded slowly. The Andorian spy network rivaled Starfleetâ€™s, so it didnâ€™t surprise her that Shran already knew about Mattâ€™s disappearance. Max Forrest was going to go ballistic once heâ€™d received the Andorianâ€™s message, and Shran would meet up with either Warp 5 starship long before then. She had to admire Shranâ€™s cunning plan.

â€œSend your ETA and your approach vectors to my science officer, Shran. Weâ€™ll see you in twelve hours.â€

Shran nodded and bowed his head, then his image disappeared. Hoshi blew out a slow breath and sat back in her seat. â€œThis makes things a lot more complicated, Jon.â€

He sighed and rubbed his temples. â€œShran places honor above everything else, Hoshi. If he owes Matt a life debt, heâ€™ll make sure to repay it, several times over. On the one hand, itâ€™ll be helpful to have the extra firepower, on the otherâ€”â€œ

â€œThe Vulcans will have a conniption fit, as Trip would say,â€ Hoshi said, ignoring the pang of worry for her Armory Officer. â€œGet me a secure line to Shiâ€™Kahr, Jon. I think Minister Vâ€™Larâ€™s got some explaining to do.â€

**********

Tâ€™Pol held herself rigid as she gazed at the formidable face of Security Minister Tâ€™Pau. Tâ€™Pau returned the stare without any hint of reproach. Tâ€™Pol was the one to break the silence. â€œThe _Vâ€™Etoru_ was a medical support vessel, not a warship,â€ she said without emotion. â€œThere was no chance of it surviving a direct attack from our enemy. Why did it engage?â€ 

Tâ€™Pau inclined her head in acknowledgment. â€œIt was under orders to assist the colony, nothing more. You are correct, in the sense that the _Vâ€™Etoru_ â€™s actions were illogical, to say the least. Unless its captain had detected a threat that _Enterprise_ did not and moved to counter it.â€

Tâ€™Pol didnâ€™t quite snort in disdain, but she replied, â€œ _Enterprise_ â€™s sensors are highly sensitive; if there was a threat to any of the ships, we would have detected it.â€

â€œPride is an emotion, Tâ€™Pol.â€

â€œI was only pointing out a fact, Tâ€™Pau.â€ Against her will, T'Pol thought, _Whose pride is the larger, T'Pau?_

"We are still analyzing the sensor readings from the _Blannek_. If they show that the _V'Etoru_ is at fault, and the _Blannek_ conspired with them, then the proper measures will be taken." The Security Minister didnâ€™t quite sigh, but she continued, â€œWe have the information you requested from the Ship and Space Ministry. Unfortunately, it is not enough to make a confirmation, but I think you will find this interesting.â€ Tâ€™Pau pushed a button on her desk and Tâ€™Polâ€™s secondary screen filled with information.

She stifled a gasp. _Not enough to make a confirmation..._ Whatever her political machinations were, T'Pau was a Vulcan of her word. Her data stretched back hundreds of years. T'Pol narrowed her eyes at the image of a long, graceful starship, and her mind made the renovations: _if we shorten the main hull and made it square, and lower the nacelles, somewhat, then change the color scheme..._ Yet the differences between this image and the current one were remarkable. T'Pol tapped a button on her PADD. This time, she compared T'Pau's image with the one from the underground mosaic on Beta Polaris. Again, there was a passing similarity, but not enough for a conclusive match.

Still it was enough to be fascinating...not to mention disturbing.

Tâ€™Pau looked directly at her and switched to the formal dialect of Vulcan. â€œI charge thee to honor thy word, Tâ€™Pol. Say nothing of this to the Earthers...not yet, not until we have the plans in place to deal with it. First and foremost, the safety and welfare of Doctor Reed is important. Bring him home.â€

Home, as in Vulcan, not _Enterprise_. T'Pol closed her eyes and searched for Malcolm's katra. Her connection was weak, but she felt his pain. Was he being tortured? She tried to find the unique mental "signature" of Trip Tucker, but she found no sign of it.

Which meant Lieutenant Commander Tucker---Trip---might be held on the second enemy ship, whichever one it was.

Tâ€™Pol bowed her head. â€œI honor thy request, Tâ€™Pau. I will bring him home.â€

**********

Lieutenant Bryan Trace had filled in for Trip Tucker on more than one occasion, but this was the first time heâ€™d dealt with an incensed Tellarite. He and Commander Mayweather listened in shock as Security Councilor Gral demanded to take part in the search for Lieutenant Commander Tucker. Gral pointedly claimed that Tucker had saved his family not once, not twice, but three times, and Gral would not stand aside as Tucker was a prisoner of an unknown, war-like race. 

â€œWhen was this?â€ Mayweather asked, dumbfounded. "He never told us he'd been to Tellar---"

Gral growled in warning. â€œHe did not tell you? How long have you known him?â€

â€œUhâ€”two months. Lieutenant Commander Tucker hadnâ€™t mentioned it---â€œ

â€œSuffice it to say that he sacrificed his very soul to assist Tellar in its time of need and we will not abandon him now. My squadron will join you in the quest and deal punishment to the ones who have taken him. Gral, out.â€

â€œWaitâ€”â€œ But Gral cut the connection, leaving an empty screen. Mayweather rubbed his temples as if he had a massive headache. â€œCrap. I wonder what Trip did that has Gral so eager to jump to his defense.â€

â€œWhatever it was, it was major,â€ Trace agreed. He was starting to share Mayweather's headache. Just the security protocols connected with the Tellarites' imminent arrival was complicated enough. â€œI donâ€™t know what the captain will think of a Tellarite squadron tagging along with usâ€”â€œ

The whistle of the comm interrupted him. Mayweather tabbed the receiver. â€œMayweather.â€

â€œTravis, weâ€™ve got company comingâ€”â€œ

â€œI know, Captain. The Tellarites just invited themselves to the party. I didnâ€™t even get to tell Security Councilor Gral that we werenâ€™t sure we even _had_ a party.â€

There was a shocked silence at the other end of the line. â€œThe _Tellarites_ said they were coming?â€

It was Traceâ€™s turn to be confused. He and the science officer exchanged questioning glances. Mayweather replied, â€œYes, thatâ€™s what Gral said. He cut me off before I could tell him otherwise. Why? Is there a problem?â€

Captain Satoâ€™s voice was dry. â€œCaptain Shranâ€™s sending you his ETA and rendezvous coordinates, Travis. They heard that Captain Hayes was taken and Shran wants him back.â€

â€œCaptain Shran? Of the Andorian Imperial Guard?â€ Traceâ€™s voice was incredulous. Tellarites and Andorians? In the same group with _Enterprise_? Security protocols just got more complicated. â€œHeâ€™s after _Hayes_? And Gral wants to get _Tucker_ back; he said something about the Lieutenant Commander saving his family on Tellar.â€

Another silence, then Captain Sato cursed under her breath, low enough that neither man caught what she had said. â€œGod, talk about complicated. Gralâ€™s right; Trip was on Tellar about six years ago. Figures what Trip did would come to haunt him now.â€ She switched subjects. â€œAnd it gets better, gentlemen. Minister Vâ€™Lar wants to send some Vulcan destroyers as well.â€

â€œDoctor Reed,â€ Mayweather guessed. â€œNice to know the three of â€˜em have friends in high places.â€

Trace turned pale, his dark brown eyes wide in worry. Of course, this would happen when his boss had been captured by an unknown race. â€œUm...Vulcans plus Andorians plus Tellarites plus unknown hostile enemy equals----â€œ

â€œA migraine the size of the known Universe,â€ Captain Sato finished. Trace blushed, but she didnâ€™t seem to worry about his thinking aloud. In fact, the captain sounded as if she agreed with him. â€œTravis, I want an immediate meeting of the senior staff. Bryan, that includes you too. We need to figure out how weâ€™re going to handle a coalition of _four_ different races and find our missing officers and pursue their kidnappers at the same time without _killing_ each other.â€

â€œOh, joy,â€ Trace muttered. The look on Mayweatherâ€™s face echoed the sentiment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: This chapter provides some clues to the identity of the Trioâ€™s captors.  
  
The first line comes from â€œBroken Bowâ€ when Trip is trying to figure out how to fly the cloaked Suliban ship. And he uses his â€œinnateâ€ engineering knowledge in this universe.  
  
I refer the reader to Diane Duaneâ€™s excellent â€œRhiannsuâ€ series involving Kirk and Company. The first story is â€œMy Enemy, My Allyâ€, one of my all-time favorite ST novels.  
  
Rating: T (The aliens aren't nice to Hayes in this one).  
  


* * *

****

Seven

_â€œUp, down, forward, reverse...how hard can it be?â€_

Trip Tucker sat on the floor of the strange ship, surveying the maze of electronics with a curious eye. Heâ€™d been at this for hours now, and every time he looked at it, he saw something different. If he was right, this was some sort of cloaking device to hide the shipâ€™s signature from _Enterprise_ â€™s sensors. His last scans confirmed there was a malfunction deep within the circuitry that prevented it from working correctly. The Capâ€™n wanted him to fix the problem as soon as possible.

He felt another thrill of excitement as he thought about the engineering applications of the cloaking device and he came up with a sound tactical use for it too. _Gotta remember to tell Malcolm that,_ he thought. Then the question popped up: _Why Malcolm?_ He frowned and answered the annoying voice, _Heâ€™s the Armory Officer, remember?_ But even as he said it, it didnâ€™t sound right. Trip pondered the strange conundrum for a moment, then shook his head and went back to work.

Little did he know that he was being watched.

**********

â€œQuite amazing.â€ The modulated voice echoed and re-echoed from its speaker. The overhead lights of the testing chamber threw a glare on the soldierâ€™s helmet. â€œThis one is resourceful. And the information we have says his position on his ship isâ€”â€œ

The other armored soldier consulted his datapad. â€œHe is the weapons officer.â€

â€œI can see where he has some experience with weapons protocol, but it seems he is fascinated by technology and its uses. Are you sure that he is not an engineer?â€

The second soldier tapped more buttons, then handed the datapad to his superior. The first one glanced over the information, then nodded. â€œA pity, Iilek. Continue the testing; he might be able to correct our problem with the cloaking device.â€

â€œYes, Mâ€™lord Gâ€™nash.â€ Iliek bowed as Lord Gâ€™nash walked out of the chamber, his boots booming on the smooth marble floor. Iliek resumed his watch on the Human male, his expressions hidden by his helmet visor.

********

Matt Hayes woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. The lights were too bright, they were all wrong, and they were damn annoying. â€œTurn â€˜em off,â€ he slurred to whoever was listening. 

â€œAh, you are awake. We were not expecting you to be conscious so soon.â€

â€œIâ€™m a light sleeper,â€ he muttered. â€œWhoâ€™re you?â€

â€œThat is not important. Obviously, you are important to a lot of people, Major. A battle fleet has assembled to follow you, like a silk moth to a flame. Tell me, who is the commander of this battle fleet? A subordinate of yours? Your commanding officer? Who?â€

Hayes tried to clear the haze from his mind. _â€˜Majorâ€™? Damn idiot canâ€™t even get my rank right._ â€œBattle fleet? I donâ€™t know anything about a battle fleet.â€

The voice was still patient, but there was a tone of danger underneath it. â€œYour people tried to establish a foothold in our territory, and when we defended ourselves, you respond with a massive fleet.â€

â€œWait a minute.â€ He managed to push himself up to a sitting position, then swung his legs to the floor. The movement caused his head to spin; he shut his eyes tightly as the room settled. â€œYouâ€™re saying that the colony and the space station were in _your_ territory? We didnâ€™t see any signs of your presence in the entire sector. We thought it was uninhabited.â€

The laugh sounded harsh and mechanical, as if it was filtered through a computer circuit. â€œFor a spacefaring race, you arenâ€™t that sophisticated, and your manners are deplorable.â€

â€œHey, Iâ€™ve been pretty polite so far. I havenâ€™t even started to insult you.â€

â€œA sense of humor is lacking in your species as well.â€

His voice was sarcastic, even more so now than ever. â€œYeah, well, you arenâ€™t exactly making me laugh, either.â€

â€œTell me, Major Hayes, who is...Hoshi?â€

A stab of dread went through him. It took him all of his composure not to react to the interrogatorâ€™s tone. â€œHoshi?â€

â€œShe was a constant factor in your various memories. A mate? A fellow officer? A rival? She must be important to you.â€

The shock gave way to anger and he used it to steer the conversation away from Hoshi. â€œYou saw my memories? Howâ€”â€œ He felt a gloved hand on his chest, then he was shoved backward with brute force. He hit the back of his head against the smooth metal bulkhead. Stars exploded in front of his eyes as the pain radiated through his head.

â€œAnd I was being _gentle_ with you, Major.â€ The menace in the voice was unmistakable now. â€œOr is it Captain? No matter. Your days are numbered, no matter where, and who, you really are.â€ There was a pause, then the same hand closed around his throat. â€œI will ask you again: Who is the commander of this battle fleet? What is your mission in our space? And who is this Hoshi, this woman who haunts your memories?â€

Hayes gritted his teeth. _Why the hell do they keep thinking Iâ€™m a MACO major? Did they grab_ me _instead of_ Kemper _by mistake? Whoever provided their information screwed up somewhere._ It gave him a glimmer of satisfaction that his captors werenâ€™t omnipotent. On the other hand, he wouldnâ€™t have wanted Nate to endure what he was going through now.

â€œIâ€™m telling you...I donâ€™t know what youâ€™re talking about.â€

The hand gently flexed once, but a new jolt of agony slammed down his spine. He tried to claw at the arm attached to it, but the grip was almost superhuman. Another light squeeze sent pain through the center of his chest.

â€œI am still being gentle with you, Major.â€ The grip lessened, giving Hayes a chance to gulp precious air. â€œTell me what I want to know. Who is the commander of the battle fleet? What is your mission? And who is this woman?â€

_I donâ€™t know!_ Hayes couldnâ€™t reply, but somehow, his interrogator heard him, and it only triggered another burst of pain. A deeper part of him needed to protect Hoshi at all costs and he knew he would give his life to do that. He doubted these beings understood that at all.

**********

Malcolm Reed curled up on his cot and tried to shore up his mental defenses. Heâ€™d managed to erect some barriers between himself and the devastating probes, had recovered from his initial panic at his loss of control and turned it into a wall of determination. He employed every Vulcan meditation he knew to counteract the aliensâ€™ serums. As a result, he was able to sort this reality from the many others heâ€™d glimpsed. 

_My name is Malcolm Reed. I am a Starfleet doctor. My service number is MR-0902211242A. My parents are Stuart and Mary Reed. My sister is Madeline Reed. I took an oath to heal and protect my patients. I will not abandon them. I am a Starfleet doctor. I am_ not _an Armory Officer, an engineer, or a commander in the Royal Navy. Those men are_ not _me_. I am a doctor.

His breathing slowed and his body relaxed, but his mind was still completely aware of his surroundings. So he knew when two of the soldiers approached his bedside. There was the sound of electronic equipment, then a muffled sound of surprise.

â€œThe strange readings have disappeared. I do not understand what has happened.â€

â€œPerhaps he is only asleep?â€

â€œHis brainwave scans are now stable. I studied the ones we recorded earlier, but not even the Lord Surgeon could interpret it. He may have some kind of affliction that affects him at times.â€

â€œWill it be dangerous to any of the crew?â€ Malcolm was struck at the note of concern in the electronic voice...this had to be the shipâ€™s captain. He didnâ€™t blame the captain for being worried about the situation.

â€œIt is difficult to say just what kind of effect it will have. We know so little of their species, only what the _Rhiannsu_ has seen fit to relay to us. It may only affect members of his own species. He is the only one on the ship; his companions are on Lord Captain Gâ€™nashâ€™s vessel. Perhaps we should ask their Lord Surgeon if he has noticed anything odd about the other test subjects.â€

â€œWe should keep him sedated until we know he will not be a threat.â€

â€œThis one has a high tolerance for our drugs, like the starship captain. The Armory Officer can still be influenced, but itâ€™s only a matter of time until their effects are diminished. Anything stronger might have an adverse effect on their biochemistry.â€

The captainâ€™s tone became dismissive. â€œWell, they can still be useful. Their companions will follow us directly to the _Rhiannsu_ , then we will strike the first blow against the encroachers.â€

â€œWhat if they cannot be turned?â€

â€œWell, they can always provide more medical knowledge for our databanks.â€

â€œTrue. I would not want to think all this was a wasted effort.â€

â€œEverything is useful, Second Surgeon. You just need to be...creative.â€

Malcolm kept still until the two visitors left and he heard the door slide shut behind them. The conversation had revealed much information about his captors.

Apparently, they were under the control of this _Rhiannsu_ , whoever they were; these soldiers only followed their superiorâ€™s orders. Matt Hayes and Trip Tucker were on the second ship, under the command of â€œLord Captain Gâ€™Nashâ€. The three of them were â€œtest subjectsâ€, and the soldiers were worried about what to do next when the drugs completely lost effect.

_They can still be useful...their companions will follow us directly to the_ Rhiannsu _...what if they cannot be turned?...they can provide more medical knowledge for our databanks..._

Malcolm swallowed hard as the nausea rose again in his throat. _Quite efficient in their work, whoever these soldiers are. Waste not, want not. My father would have appreciated the sentiment, if not the action._

But one thought overrode everything. How was he going to get out of here and warn Hoshi in time? And how was he going to help Matt and Trip on the other ship before the soldiers â€œturnedâ€ them, whatever that meant?

He needed to think of a plan, and quickly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: How can Hoshi, Daniels and the others mold four different military groups into a cohesive fleet? A lot of work and a lot of diplomacy.  
  
I wanted to put Bernhard Mueller in here somewhere and Volley graciously gave me permission (just this one flashback, Volley. I promise. And I didn't change him much :) He's still an Armory man.) He appears in the one scene.  
  
And speaking of other characters, I resurrected Hawkins, the MACO who died under Malcolm's command on the Xindi Sphere. He's Nate Kemper's Second in Command here.  
  
In Tripâ€™s flashback, he stumbles over an emotionally difficult (and upsetting) discovery on Tellar, something that gives a clue to where his "dark emotion" (i.e. suppressed anger) comes from. Thanks to Ladyhawke Legend for the beta...I really appreciate it:)  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Eight

**Captain Hoshi Satoâ€™s Personal Log: April 3, 2155**

The past 3 days have been a nightmare. Thereâ€™s no other word for it. Itâ€™s bigger than the migraine the size of the known Universe (Bryanâ€™s agreed with me there).

Weâ€™ve been tracking the enemy ship for the past three days with no sign of them slowing down or stopping. Each time we accelerate to pass their speed, they match it and even surpass our best speed of Warp 5.2. Phlox is attempting to squeeze a little more from the engines, but even with his expertise, we canâ€™t maintain it for long. Of course, that means that the enemy can easily outrun us if they wanted to, but theyâ€™ve refrained so far. Why?

Both J.T. and Travis think theyâ€™re leading us somewhere. It might be a trap. I tend to agree, but we need to get Trip, Malcolm and Matt back. _Columbia_ needs her captain, and _Enterprise_ needs her chief medical officer and Armory Officer.

My mind keeps spinning...what is the enemy doing to the three of them? Both Matt and Trip have some training to resist coercion, but Iâ€™m not sure how much Malcolm has received. Malcolm can be incredibly stubborn, but even stubbornness has its limits. I can only hope theyâ€™re all right and holding on until we can get them back.

Iâ€™ve never been so scared in my entire life, but I must stay strong for them...and the rest of my crew.

**********

**Communications Officer Jonathan Archerâ€™s Personal Log: April 4, 2155**

Captain Shranâ€™s squadron rendezvoused with us two days ago. Colonel Gralâ€™s squadron and Minister Tâ€™Pauâ€™s battle group arrived yesterday morning. Needless to say, there were plenty of hard words and posturing from all of them. Bryanâ€™s resisted blowing Gral, Shran and Tâ€™Pau out of the sky...thank God.

Iâ€™ve managed to weasel a compromise among the Andorian, Tellarite and Vulcan forces. Weâ€™ve divided the Allied squadrons evenly between _Columbia_ and _Enterprise_. I made a big deal about the random selection by lottery, to reassure everyone that there was no underhanded sneakiness involved. I think Trip would have rolled on the floor with laughter at the rampant paranoia.

But I think itâ€™s Divine Intervention that put Shranâ€™s _Kumari_ and Gralâ€™s _Hâ€™wande_ in _Columbia_ â€™s group and Tâ€™Pauâ€™s _Surak_ in ours. The Universe has got to be laughing at us. J.T. is about to check himself into the loony bin, I think. Even his legendary patience is getting strained.

And now that the politics have been (grudgingly) put aside, itâ€™s time to focus on more important issues. Trip, Malcolm, Matt...weâ€™re coming for you. Hang on.

***********

â€œMayweather to Captain Sato.â€ 

Hoshi forced her bleary eyes open, then sat up in her bunk. The glowing numbers of her digital clock read: 0430. _Too early to get up, too late to go back to sleep. It wasnâ€™t as if I was getting any sleep anyway._ She pushed away the remnants of her nightmares and hit the intercom button. â€œSato.â€

â€œCaptain, our â€˜friendsâ€™ are slowing down and varying their courses. Looks like both ships are heading for a rendezvous with each other. Science officer Tâ€™Lurah on the _Surak_ â€™s sent us information about three different star systems on our path. Looks like we might be running headlong into trouble.â€

She was instantly awake. â€œTactical alert, Travis, and advise the rest of Alpha Fleet. Status report on _Columbia_ and Beta Fleet?â€

â€œCommander Daniels confirms that the second ship is also cutting speed. Captain Shran and Captain Gral have both put their squadrons on high alert. It sounds like Major Kemper and Lieutenant Hawkins convinced both of them to agree to a loose defense plan.â€

â€œHawkins? Isnâ€™t that Kemperâ€™s second-in-command?â€

â€œYeah; he and Bryanâ€™s been chewing a lot of intership comm time, but Bryan likes him and theyâ€™ve managed to convince Minister Tâ€™Pau to join in as well.â€

Hoshi smiled sadly. â€œI think Trip would be proud of his protege, when he finds out what Bryanâ€™s accomplished. All right, Iâ€™ll be up in a moment.â€

By the time she stepped out of the lift, the Bridge was the center of tense, but unhurried activity. Lieutenant Trace was at the Tactical Station, holding a conversation with Minister Tâ€™Pau, Captain Shranâ€™s Tactical Officer Komrek, and Captain Gralâ€™s Security Officer Knet. Hoshi sneaked a sideways glance at the young man; she made a mental reminder to give Trace a recommendation in his file, at the very least.

Trace paused and saw her. â€œCaptain on the Bridge,â€ he announced.

â€œThank you, Lieutenant.â€ She took the center seat from Travis, who moved back to the science station. He didnâ€™t look like heâ€™d gotten much rest, either, although they alternated shifts with each other. Yet she knew it was useless to order him to rest, not in this situation. He was needed.

She drew her gaze to Tâ€™Pol, who sat alert at the helm. The Vulcan had been disturbingly quiet since Trip and Malcolm had been taken. Her conversations with Minister Tâ€™Pau had been little more than the barest of formalities. Considering Tâ€™Pau had been her mentor and teacher, this was a very bad sign.

â€œStatus, Ensign?â€ Hoshi asked quietly.

â€œWe are still on a pursuit course at Warp 4.85.â€

â€œCan you feel anything?â€ Hoshiâ€™s voice was barely audible, but Tâ€™Pol heard it with her superior hearing. Hoshi saw the subtle tenseness of her shoulders.

â€œNot anymore. He was in pain, but not anymore. I worry for him.â€

â€œNothing at all.â€ It was not a question.

â€œNothing at all.â€

Crewman Rheinstein at Communications turned to address Hoshi. â€œCaptain, message from _Columbia_. Their quarry has stopped dead in space.â€

**********

No matter how much Trip blinked his eyes, they felt perpetually dry. His brain felt like it had been wrapped in wet wool. Although his mind felt fuzzy, his reflexes worked independent of his thoughts. It was a strange feeling, as if he was detached from his own body. 

But he knew enough that something wasnâ€™t right. A weapon of strange design was placed in his hands and he disassembledâ€”and reassembledâ€”it as if heâ€™d used it every day of his life. A harsh voice commanded him to shoot at a target; he scored a perfect hit every time. A pair of hands grabbed him; he swiftly broke out of the personâ€™s grip and brought his attacker down with several well-placed blows.

_You are ready,_ the voice said. _All you need is the stimulus._

And a memory welled up within him, one that he had wanted to forget.

**********

â€œGott in Himmel!â€ 

Trip agreed with Ensign Bernhard Muellerâ€™s choked exclamation. He knelt by the remains of the building in the center of the Tellarite village. The ashes were still slightly warm; the ones who did this couldnâ€™t have been too far ahead of them.

â€œWeâ€™re probably four, five hours behind them, Bernhard. Weâ€™ll find â€˜em.â€

Then a soft crackling noise startled him. Trip glanced at the far wall, the only part of the building still standing. Mueller had heard it too; he glanced at Trip, who nodded. They drew out their phase pistols and went to investigate. 

â€œHey!â€ Trip called softly. Then he added, in his limited Tellarite speech, â€œYou there? Friends.â€

Nothing. He and Bernhard made their way to the wall, but saw nothing there. Trip placed his gloved hand on the wall; still warm, for the stone retained its heat. The smell of black, oily smoke filled the small space and made his eyes water. Then he saw something among the ashes.

â€œHold on, Bernhard.â€ He holstered his phase pistol and wiped ashes away from the object on the floor. Then he realized there was more than one. Objects. Rectangular, about the size of his hand...the bent and twisted frame barely held together, the buttons melted...

A datapad. It was too small for his hand, or an adult Tellariteâ€™s hand, but...

Trip stood there as realization hit him. Not for an adult, for a child...a Tellarite child...

â€œThis was a school,â€ he whispered, shock and horror reverberating through him. â€œOh my God, Bernhard, this was a **school**. There were children in here...â€ 

He heard a stifled sob and looked up. The tall, broad-shouldered Bavarian leaned against the wall, holding something in his hand. It wasnâ€™t a datapad, but some kind of carved stone toy. Mueller didnâ€™t look at him, but his distress put a stake through Tripâ€™s heart. 

â€œDammit, weâ€™re gonna get who did this,â€ Trip whispered, his voice harsh and angry. â€œI swear, weâ€™re gonna get â€˜em.â€ 

**********

â€œWe know who did this, and you will personally make sure they will answer to their crimes.â€ The voice in his head sounded confident of that. â€œWill you?â€

He answered by powering up the strange alien rifle in his hand with a wicked grin.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: The identity of the black-and-red soldiers is revealed. (Some of â€˜em arenâ€™t who you think they are.) It explains the interrogation/brainwashing techniques used on Trip in the last chapter. (Hint: ENT â€œShockwave, Part IIâ€)  
  
Malcolm meets an unlikely ally and Columbia is under attack from a familiar front.  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Nine

â€œOn your feet!â€

Malcolm felt himself jerked to his feet, but didnâ€™t resist as two of the soldiers supported him. Then he managed to raise his head and look around slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was in some kind of laboratory, with several monitors attached to three of the walls. The fourth wall was coated with some kind of dark, reflective material.

â€œAn observation room,â€ he murmured. _Two-way mirror, probably. They can observe us, but we canâ€™t see them._ He squinted up into the light, then gripped the arm of his nearest supporter. Although his mind was alert, he acted dazed and confused to hide his own covert observation.

â€œWhat is wrong with him?â€ asked a voice laced with irritation.

The second voice was calm, soothing. â€œPerhaps he is having another one of his odd â€˜episodesâ€™. I do wish we had more time to study him. His body chemistry is unique compared with the other twoâ€”â€œ

â€œWe have no time. Our superiors want him at the forefront of the assault.â€

That got Malcolmâ€™s attention. They were planning to assault another planet? Another ship? _Enterprise_? His throat suddenly went dry at the thought. What were they doing? His captors dragged him out of the room and down a corridor. The analytical part of his brain noticed every detail: the same reflective material on the walls, the reddish glow of the alert lights set in the ceiling. Other soldiers marched down the halls in their calm, unhurried pace, always in pairs.

That was when he noticed that not all the soldiers were created equal. The low lights brought out the differences within each pair. One manâ€™s black armor was covered with a thin layer of iridescent scales; it was barely visible to the naked eye, but it was there. Malcolm could understand why the colonistsâ€™ reports hadnâ€™t mentioned it, for it was so faint. The second soldier wore no scales on the armor; instead of scales, he had the image of a hawk on his left bicep, with some kind of rank insignia.

_Perhaps one is enlisted and other an officer?_ That was a distinct possibility, for the ranked one seemed the dominant one of the pair. Malcolm and his captors came to an intersection in the corridors. A panicked shout came from his right, followed by angry words in an unfamiliar language.

â€œStay here,â€ said the officer in charge. Malcolm watched under lowered lids as he stalked down the right-hand corridor. Another â€œenlisted manâ€ knelt in the middle of the hall with his head bowed in a gesture of submission.

To Malcolmâ€™s shock, that soldier had removed its helmet to reveal a hairless skull, the skin rough as weathered sandstone, its features chiseled within the face.

â€œThe poor fool,â€ murmured Malcolmâ€™s captor. There was a trace of pity in the voice. â€œHe must have disobeyed orders. Not a prudent thing to do.â€

The soldier knelt there, unmoving, as the two superior officers argued above him. Again, Malcolm felt that distinct thrill of unease, that sense that told him that _this was all wrong. He wasnâ€™t supposed to be here to witness this._ This was not supposed to be happening like this.

Then why was it happening? Time slowed for him as he watched in horror at what happened next. One of the officers unholstered his sidearm, then a bright flash erupted from that end of the hall. When it cleared, the fallen soldier lay on his back, his amber-gold eyes staring dumbly at the ceiling. Malcolm realized the man was of a species heâ€™d never seen before, but seemed familiar nevertheless.

The two officers traded more words, then one of them turned on his heel and stalked his way back to Malcolm. â€œIdiot Suliban,â€ the officer muttered as soon as he was within Malcolmâ€™s range of hearing. â€œUseful in some ways, incompetent in others.â€

Malcolm filed the name in his memory. _Suliban. Is that the name of one of the races involved?_ This Suliban appeared to be a slave race on this ship. Each one wore a different uniform from their superiors and was closely supervised. So the enemy ranks werenâ€™t as cohesive as they seemed. _Useful in some ways, incompetent in others. In which ways were they useful?_

â€œCome on,â€ said the officer. He grabbed Malcolmâ€™s right arm and together, he and his Suliban subordinate half-dragged, half-carried Malcolm down the hall.

A set of doors opened into some kind of shuttle bay. Malcolm raised his head as the thunder of boots echoed in the room. Soldiers stood rigidly at attention, each one fully dressed in combat armor and helmets. Now that Malcolm knew what to look for on the uniforms, he realized three-quarters of the group were Suliban, the rest were of the unknown officer corps. Each soldier stood on a lighted circular disk.

Transporter pads. Malcolm struggled as they dragged him to an empty pad, then the officer told his subordinate. â€œHold him still. Do not let him escape.â€

â€œYes, Centurion.â€

Centurion? Malcolm blinked. _As in a Roman centurion? They use Roman military ranking?_ Then another thought occurred to him. _How am I able to understand what theyâ€™re saying? Hoshi would be the first to say that English is not the universal language..._

A low voice answered him. â€œBecause youâ€™ve been fitted with a kind of intradermal translator.â€

â€œWhat?â€

His Suliban keeperâ€™s voice was barely audible. â€œNot so loud, Doctor. They will hear.â€

â€œWho are you?â€

â€œI am Silik. My people were subjugated by _them_ â€”â€œ Malcolm heard the contempt in the Sulibanâ€™s voice. â€œThey wish to expand their empire and enslave other peoples. They shift their borders at a momentâ€™s whim and use that as an excuse to attack.â€

â€œWho are â€˜themâ€™?â€

â€œListen to me, Doctor. Listen carefully.â€ Silikâ€™s voice dropped even lower. â€œThey will fit you with a collar filled with chemical explosives and put you at the head of the column. I can loosen it so you can rid yourself of it at the proper time. We will be going back to your ship and they want to use you as a weapon.â€

â€œWe must stop them.â€

â€œAnd we will. Many of my fellows are on our side. Once we rid ourselves of our keepers, we will assist you against them.â€

â€œCan I trust you?â€

Malcolm couldnâ€™t see Silikâ€™s face, for the Suliban faced forward at perfect attention, but he heard the mixed humor and derision in Silikâ€™s whisper. â€œYou do not have a choice at this point, Doctor. So, are we agreed?â€

â€œAll right, Silik. Just donâ€™t handle me too roughly.â€

Again, the soft thread of laughter. â€œOn the contrary, I believe you to be tougher than you appear. You managed to withstand Suliban interrogation and brainwashing techniques. You must educate us on your methods.â€

â€œIâ€™m not sure I should be revealing trade secrets.â€ Malcolm couldnâ€™t believe he was joking with Silik at a time like this, but the banter made him feel marginally better. _Iâ€™m going to be used as a hostage and I must put my trust in someone whom I hardly know. Brilliant. At least weâ€™re going back to_ Enterprise, _and Hoshi..._

â€œ...and we will not fail!â€ The officer paused in his rousing speech and raised his arm. â€œFor the glory of the Romulan Star Empire!â€

The assembled soldiers roared in response, including Silik, Malcolm winced at the volume after their hurried and whispered conversation. The officer strode back to Malcolmâ€™s side and with one smooth motion, snapped a metal collar around his neck. Malcolm could feel some kind of liquid within it as he moved his head and hear a low vibration just under his ear.

â€œEnergize!â€

As a shaft of light rose around him, Malcolm heard Silikâ€™s voice whisper, â€œTrust me.â€

**********

â€œCommander Daniels!â€ shouted Major Nate Kemper. â€œWeâ€™ve got an intruder alert on E Deck!â€ 

â€œSeal off the area. Tell Doctor Arroyo to lock the doors,â€ ordered Daniels. He nodded at Kemper. â€œKick them off the ship, Major.â€

â€œAye, sir.â€ Kemper rushed to the turbolift as Daniels turned to his comm officer. â€œIntruder alert, notify the crew to stay in quarters and their stations until further notice. Advise _Enterprise_ that we are under attack.â€

The comm officer nodded and immediately followed his orders. Daniels felt a jolt under his feet, then another one. â€œWhat was that?â€

â€œNot us, Commander,â€ replied his temporary science officer, Lieutenant Davies. â€œCaptain Gral just fired a shot off the enemyâ€™s port nacelle. It nearly hit us.â€

â€œGet me Gral on the line, now!â€ Daniels felt a surge of anger at the trigger-happy Tellarite, but shoved it down and away from his conscious mind. _Anger is deadly in a crisis situation. Control it!_ The Bridge shook again, this time from deep within _Columbia._ â€œWhat theâ€”â€œ

â€œCommander Daniels, command functions are being overridden!â€ Davies tapped furiously on her board. â€œIâ€™m trying to scramble themâ€”â€œ

Daniels made a quick decision and punched a button on the command chair. â€œCommand function security lockout, Daniels, code Omega-three-Alpha.â€ The computer chirped in acknowledgment, then its screen blanked out. The respite only lasted a minute or two, for the screen lit up again and characters raced across it.

â€œSomeoneâ€™s countermanding my order,â€ he muttered under his breath. â€œThe only one who can do that isâ€”â€œ His stomach dropped in horror as the realization hit him. â€œOh God.â€

â€œSir?â€ Davies asked.

Daniels swore again, causing the Bridge crew to turn their heads to stare at him. â€œDaniels to Kemper.â€

â€œKemper,â€ came the voice of Columbiaâ€™s Armory Officer.

â€œBe advised that either the enemy managed to get Captain Hayesâ€™s command codes or the captain himself is in the raiding party.â€

Kemper was silent for a moment, then he answered, â€œI think we just found out which one it is, Commander Daniels.â€

Daniels took a deep breath and went into full command mode, knowing he was probably going to pay for it later. â€œDefend the ship by any means necessary, Major. Try not to injure the captain, but---â€ He left the sentence unfinished.

Kemperâ€™s voice was just as grim. â€œAye, sir. Kemper, out.â€


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: You find out just what the deal is with Trip and how Malcolm gets out of the mess heâ€™s in. I modified the ending to this chapter a little. A bit of humor to lighten things up a bit before things got too depressing.  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Ten

â€œWeâ€™ve detected an unauthorized transport from one of the enemy ships, Captain Shran!â€

Shran frowned and looked over at his Tactical Officer, Komrek. â€œTo where? On board our ship?â€

Komrek shook his head and replied, â€œNo, sir. Lieutenant Talasâ€™s _Asahari_.â€

Shranâ€™s voice rose in alarm as he stood up from his command chair. â€œAssemble a defense team and beam them to the _Asahari._ Komrek, power up weapons. Helm, set a course for that ship.â€

â€œWhat about _Columbia_?â€ Komrek asked, even as he followed his captainâ€™s orders.

â€œThat coward Daniels doesnâ€™t have his family threatened,â€ Shran answered. â€œFirst, they take my brother, then they board my sisterâ€™s ship. If they harm a single hair on Talasâ€™s head, they will pay for it.â€

**********

The assault team materialized in the corridor right outside the engine room. With their trademark efficiency, three of them took up defensive positions while two others attached a charge to the engine room doors. A squad of Andorian defenders rounded the corner; silently, the leader dropped his arm as a signal to fire. A second later, scorching lasers pierced the air between the two groups. 

A minute later, the charge exploded in a mass of smoke of debris. Voices became panicked as the Andorian engineering team hammered the assault team from the ruined door. The surprise attack quickly became a rout as the _Asahari_ â€™s crew defended their ship with every resource they had.

One member of the failed assault team quietly eased his way to an access ladder. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and began the long climb up. The mental map of the _Asahari_ was clear in his mind: up three levels, junction 17B, room 18532. He thought about going to the Andoriansâ€™ Armory, or the Bridge, but there were too many people around for what he wanted to do.

And the worst thing to do was to make a private grudge public...at least unless it was absolutely necessary.

The sound of boots on metal made him freeze in position. He controlled his breathing, ignored the trembling of his muscles, the bitter cold that bit into his skin, even under the armor. Eventually, the sounds faded away, and after a few more heartbeats, he continued on his way. When he emerged on the third level, he peered up and down the hall.

_This is too easy,_ he thought, and that immediately set off alarm bells in his head. _They probably know Iâ€™m already here. Andorians ainâ€™t stupid._ Again, he felt the urge, deep within his brain, to search for his quarry, the one responsible...he remembered her words: â€œIn war, innocents are caught in the crossfire. As a warrior, you know that, and as a warrior, you must accept that.â€

â€œRight,â€ he muttered under his breath. â€œNot if Iâ€™ve got anythinâ€™ to say â€˜bout it.â€

Then a soft voice rang in the silence. â€œI know youâ€™re there. Come out and weâ€™ll talk.â€

_Thereâ€™s nothinâ€™ to talk about,_ he wanted to shout, but he prudently kept his mouth shut. She knew he was here, so hiding from her was useless. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor. Immediately, he saw her. Lieutenant Talas stood fifteen feet away from him, backed by a full squad of Andorian soldiers. They all trained their rifles at him; he knew if he made the wrong move, theyâ€™d get him before he could even get off a single shot. If they fired first.

â€œHold,â€ she said in that quiet voice of steel. Her squad lowered their rifles with great reluctance. Talas ventured a few steps in his direction; he responded by raising his own weapon. A stir went through the Andorians, but they did not interfere.

The tall, athletic Andorian woman stared back at him with hard violet-blue eyes. She was in full battle uniform, her shoulder-length white hair tied back away from her face. She looked just like she had on that day, when heâ€™d confronted her at the armistice talks between the Andorians and the Tellarites. Talas hadnâ€™t changed a bit in six years: beautiful and dangerous.

â€œTake off the helmet, Lieutenant Commander Tucker. If I am to face a fellow warriorâ€”â€œher mouth curved in humor, â€œâ€”at least, give me the honor of seeing your face.â€

Trip reached over with a hand and flipped up the visor. â€œBetter?â€ he asked with a touch of sarcasm.

â€œMuch. Thank you,â€ she replied with the same irony. She showed no surprise at his sudden appearance; that fact made him suspicious. He thought, _She knew I was cominâ€™ and brought a little entourage with her. Fine, thisâ€™ll be as public as possible._

They regarded each other with undisguised hostility. Then she said, â€œWhy have you come, Lieutenant Commander?â€

His finger tightened on the trigger, causing a stir among the Andorians. â€œDoes Nâ€™awhhaeâ€™ri jog your memory, Talas? It should.â€

Her eyes narrowed at the implication. â€œThe Tellarite village? That happened six years ago, Lieutenant Commander. You come here, aboard my ship, in an enemy uniform, for a tragedy long past? I would have thought youâ€™d forgotten by now.â€

â€œNot when you razed an whole building of schoolchildren to the ground.â€

â€œThe piglets?â€ A touch of sorrow was under her steely tone. â€œI told you that your heart is too sensitive for this, Charles Tucker. You should have listened to me. Theyâ€™ve used your heart against you.â€

Her words touched an uncomfortable chord. â€œIâ€™m not weak, Talas.â€

â€œI never said you were weak. You are one of the strongest people I know. Use that compassion to protect the ones who need you now. Your captain. Your ship. Your people. _Enterprise_ is under attack and they need you now.â€

Talas was convincing; he had to admit that. She had deflected the blame for her actions by turning the attention back to him. Appealing to his sense of duty and justice. Justice. He gritted his teeth and thought, _Nice try. Almost fell for it._

An imperceptible smile crossed her features. â€œIf you insist in this charade, Charles, then let us settle this in an honorable fashion. This is hardly the place to do it. After all, you are one Human against fifteen Andorians in this hallway, and that is hardly...fair.â€ She inclined her head. â€œAnd if youâ€™d wanted to be dishonorable, you would have shot me by now, even if meant your own death. That, at the very least, tells me that you already know what is right.â€

â€œWhat do you propose, then?â€

â€œA way to resolve this, once and for all: a duel. You and me, no one else.â€ Her eyes blazed. â€œAnd may we settle this one and for all, Charles, so we can both be free.â€

Trip considered that, then smiled. â€œAll right. That suits me just fine.â€

**********

â€œHeâ€™s _where_?â€ 

Captain Gral's stubby fingers gripped the padded arms of his command chair so hard that they left nail marks deep in the fabric. He grunted as a piece of debris went flying, barely inches from his face. The enemy ship in front of them fired again, striking the shields and pitching Gral out of his chair. He pushed himself back to his feet as he heard the smoke recyclers clearing the smoke on his bridge.

â€œTheyâ€™re moving again! Theyâ€™re heading towards _Columbia_!â€ called his helm officer.

â€œConcentrate all fire on the enemyâ€™s aft shields! Force them to turn back toward us!â€ Gral closed his eyes and gave the coordinates from memory. _Great Mother Sow, protect us all!_ His communications officer continued to relay bad news: _Columbia_ and _Enterprise_ were fighting shipboard incursions, enemy reinforcements had been detected at the edges of sensor range, and Trip Tucker had somehow ended up on one of the Andoriansâ€™s ship. The one commanded by Lieutenant Talas.

Who happened to be the sister of Captain Shran.

Who happened to be the one whose forces had destroyed Nâ€™awhhaeâ€™ri six years ago.

Who happened to be the only one who survived the political aftermath of that Andorian/Tellarite war and was awarded command of her own ship...and a promotion.

_Damn Andorians!_ Gral clamped down on his rage. Heâ€™d been cordial to them for the sake of unity in the face of this greater threat. It didnâ€™t mean he had to like them. _Theyâ€™ll kill Tucker, even if he gets his revenge against Talas. I will not stand for that, not after all he has done for my family and Tellar._

â€œTransporter room!â€

â€œSir!â€

â€œCan you lock onto the one Human biosign on the _Asahari_?â€

â€œThe _Asahari_ have their defensive shields up, Captain. We canâ€™t get through it!â€

â€œThen find a way! _Swâ€™he kaâ€™henjru Tucker asâ€™srthuiâ€™ba!â€_

There was a shocked silence on the other end of the line. â€œYes, sir! Transporter room, out!â€

Boras, his helmsman, cut into the conversation. â€œCaptain, the enemy is turning away from _Columbia_ and heading toward us!â€

Gral smiled as he settled back into his command chair. â€œLetâ€™s show them why you donâ€™t anger a Tellarite, shall we, Boras?â€

Boras turned and bared his teeth, then went back to his helm board with anticipation.

**********

Hoshi fired her phase pistol at one of the soldiers, who went down with a thud. She quickly ducked back behind the bulkhead as the return fire streamed past her face. She took out her communicator and whispered, â€œNow, Bryan! Let â€˜em have it!â€ 

Bryan Trace and his Armory team pounded the invaders from behind. Caught in the crossfire, their forces didnâ€™t stand a chance. When the smoke cleared, six of the soldiers lay on the deck.

â€œBridge to Captain Sato!â€

â€œSato!â€ she shouted into her communicator.

â€œCaptain, the second group is headed toward Engineering! Commander Phlox reports that heâ€™s sealed it off using the emergency bulkheads.â€

â€œTell Phlox weâ€™re on our way, Travis. Bryan?â€

â€œWeâ€™re ahead of you, Captain,â€ came Traceâ€™s voice. â€œWeâ€™ll meet you there!â€

Travis Mayweatherâ€™s voice interrupted her next order. â€œWeâ€™ve picked up one Human biosign with them; itâ€™s Doctor Reed!â€

_Malcolm._ Hoshi closed her eyes briefly. _Malcolmâ€™s alive._ Aloud she said, â€œAcknowledged, Travis. Weâ€™ll get him back.â€

Hoshi led her group through access tunnels and ladders. Sheâ€™d ordered the lifts shut down as a precaution and that had helped slow down the invasion. She kept track of the multiple conversations over her communicator: _Enterprise_ and _Surak_ were holding their own against the enemy ships, but Travis had detected several more on multiple approach vectors. Jon reported that the _Shenandoah_ and other Starfleet ships were also on their way. _Columbia_ and its Tellarite/Andorian allies had their hands full as well. It was degenerating into a full-out space brawl.

_So much for meeting new species and new civilizations._ Hoshi winced at the thought. Theyâ€™d been forced into a military confrontation...and possibly a war against unknown enemies. Not exactly how sheâ€™d envisioned her first three months of a new command.

They rounded a corner and saw a glimmer of red and black. Doctor Malcolm Reed stood in front of them; a taller soldier holding him still by the arm. Hoshi froze in her tracks; she raised a hand to warn Bryan, who approached from the opposite direction. Her eyes met Malcolmâ€™s; he looked like death warmed over, but the grey-blue eyes were unnaturally calm.

Then she saw the collar around Malcolmâ€™s neck and she widened her eyes in horror. _Theyâ€™re using him as a hostage!_

â€œDoctor Reed,â€ she said with only the barest tremble in her voice. â€œAre you all right?â€

â€œIâ€™m well, Captain.â€ Malcolmâ€™s eyes narrowed as he went on, â€œThey want you to order Phlox to lift the emergency bulkheads and allow them access to Engineering. If you donâ€™t...the bomb Iâ€™m wearing will blow the ship apart.â€

_How can he be so calm? Must be the Vulcan training._ Hoshi pushed down her panic. She knew that Malcolm would sacrifice himself to save the crew; he was a doctor, after all. Malcolm tilted his head downwards, as if he barely had the strength to keep it up. She followed his gaze to his hands and saw the two signals he made with his fingers: TR SP

_TR SP. What does he mean? TRSP...Transporter!_ Her mind formed a plan. If it worked...she deliberately raised her communicator and the soldiers raised their weapons in return. â€œLieutenant Trace, withdraw to Beta-three-Gamma.â€

â€œMaâ€™am?â€ Trace sounded confused.

â€œDo it.â€ She switched channels, slowly and deliberately, in full view of all present. â€œSato to Raymer.â€

â€œRaymer,â€ came the voice of Transporter Chief Grant Raymer. He sounded surprised that the captain would be calling him, instead of Phlox.

â€œLieutenant, enable Protocol Seven-Gamma at Junctureâ€”â€œ She glanced up at the sign above the soldiersâ€™ heads, â€œâ€”E-Fifty-Three-C. Reverse power to the emergency bulkheads in ninety seconds once Seven-Gamma is complete.â€

There was a pause, then Raymer replied, â€œYes, maâ€™am.â€

She saw the confusion on Bryan Traceâ€™s face at the other end of the hall. Why had she asked the _transporter chief_ to raise the emergency bulkheads? _Raymer_ wouldnâ€™t be able to do that; only _Phlox_ could, from inside Engineering. Phlox had to be listening in on the conversation, and that meant...she saw the realization dawn on Traceâ€™s face and he slowly nodded.

â€œStep out, Captain Sato,â€ said the soldier directly behind Malcolm. He turned to address his men. â€œIf this is a trick, kill her. Then the doctor and everyone on this deck.â€

Hoshi slowly stepped out, her arms raised to show sheâ€™d left her weapon behind. She counted down the seconds. Timing was critical here; if Raymer was a second too late...

Then the emergency bulkheads went up and just as the soldiers moved towards the entrance hatch to Engineering, the one guarding Malcolm shoved him out of the line of fire as Malcolm reached up and tore the collar from his throat.

â€œRaymer, lock onto the collar!â€ Hoshi yelled. A second later, it sizzled with the transporter effect. Malcolmâ€™s protector snapped an order in his native language. Lasers from phase rifles criss-crossed the hall and soldiers fell.

The hatch to Engineering flew open and struck one of the officers in the face. Commander Phlox peeked out, saw that everything was under control, reached over and slammed the hatch back shut. A moment later, the emergency bulkheads came crashing back down, once again isolating Engineering from the melee outside.

â€œTell everyone to fall back!â€ Malcolm shouted, with an edge that surprised everyone. â€œThe officersâ€™ armor are rigged with their own explosives!â€

Raymer shouted back, â€œEnergizing, Doctor!â€ Two of the soldiers disappeared, and a second later, the deck tipped underneath them all and _Enterprise_ shuddered under multiple blasts.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em. Dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em. Donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: Yeah, Hoshiâ€™s got her crew well-trained. :) She strikes me as the type of captain who would have a whole playbook of strategies...including a chapter on defending against boarding parties, and every member of the shipâ€™s crew should be able to be a defender, including engineers and transporter chiefs.  
  
Lots going on in this chapter...Trip and Talas end up in a battle to the death...sort of. (The ushaan-tor ritual fight was seen in ENT "United", when Archer and Shran fought). And what about Hayes?  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Eleven

Commander J.T. Daniels hovered over Lieutenant Hawkinsâ€™s shoulder and listened to the battle reports. _Enterprise_ had narrowly missed a deadly on-board detonation. Not only had the enemy outfitted Doctor Reed with an explosive, but Captain Sato and her crew had discovered that some of the soldiers wore incendiary devices within their own armor. She had managed to warn Daniels just before communications had been cut off by Hayes and his incursion team. The enemy reinforcements were coming closer, and Starfleetâ€™s cavalry was still six hours away.

The two enemy ships played a game of hide-and-seek, using their cloaking devices to mask their movements. Hawkins and the other Tactical Officers on board the Andorian and Tellarite ships suspected that more cloaked ships had joined the party, but exactly how many was the question.  
It was a daring plan...disabling the warp drive to prevent them from escaping, then stalling until the reinforcements arrived. Daniels didnâ€™t even want to think of the carnage to come, if they didnâ€™t get out of here in time.

_And it says something that our â€˜alliesâ€™ havenâ€™t abandoned us to save their own skins. I guess thereâ€™s something resembling honor in the universe._ The thought gave Daniels some grim comfort.

â€œCommander, look at this.â€ Hawkins said, as he brought up _Columbia_ â€™s deck plans. â€œThis is the route theyâ€™ve taken so farâ€”â€œ he highlighted the route, â€œâ€”and theyâ€™ve disabled our warp drive and gotten some of our secondary systems, but theyâ€™ve left some of our critical functions untouched.â€

â€œEnvironmental controls, armoryâ€”â€œ

Hawkins chuckled. â€œThe captainâ€™s an Armory man, Commander. Heâ€™s still pretty protective of â€˜hisâ€™ space.â€

â€œYou think the captainâ€™s still somewhat in control of his actions?â€ Daniels dared himself to hope for the first time since theyâ€™d gotten into this mess of interstellar proportions.

â€œI canâ€™t think of any other reason why heâ€™s leading â€˜em around in circles. Kemperâ€™s doing a good job of nipping at their heels, but I think Captain Hayes is still with us.â€

A hurried comm message from Major Kemper echoed on the Bridge. â€œCommander, Captain Hayes and the incursion group are heading toward the bridge.â€

â€œAcknowledged, Major. Weâ€™ve got emergency measures in place, but weâ€™ll make a stand here if it comes to that. How many of them left?â€

â€œHayes and six of them. I think we got the ones not wearing any explosives, butâ€”â€œ

Kemper left the sentence unfinished; Daniels closed his eyes and nodded to himself. â€œAll right, Major. We will not allow _Columbia_ to fall into enemy hands. Am I clear?â€

â€œAye, sir.â€

Daniels opened his eyes and regarded hisâ€” _Captain Hayesâ€™s_ â€”Bridge crew, and saw the same look of fierce determination all around. As long as there was a fighting chance, as long as there was a way to get their captain back...

â€œAll right, then. Weâ€™ll stop them here. Lieutenant Hawkins, distribute phase pistols to the Bridge Crew.â€

â€œSir,â€ said Hawkins. He unlatched a panel, revealing a set of eight phase pistols and chargers. Daniels thanked the paranoid minds of Major Kemper and Lieutenant Hawkins...and Captain Hayesâ€™s foresight.

Unfortunately, the enemy had used Hayesâ€™s tactical knowledge against his own ship.

â€œCommander, your phase pistol, sir!â€ Hawkins shouted as he threw it underhanded at Daniels. Daniels caught it easily and checked the charge, just as the grinding servos of an overridden emergency bulkhead rumbled over the Bridge.

â€œTake cover,â€ Daniels ordered, just as the wall panel located forward of the helm station began to crack open. â€œDonâ€™t let the sight of the captain distract you, and watch where you shoot...we have to take them out without detonating anything theyâ€™re carrying. Understand?â€

There was a murmur of agreement around the bridge as the panel was shoved aside. Danielsâ€™s finger tightened on the trigger as he saw the reflection of a black-and-red helmet...coming up over his shoulder. Daniels immediately dropped to the floor and fired behind him. The panel exploded outward and the enemy soldiers poured out.

Halloway, the helmsman, physically tackled the lead man as phase pistol fire erupted on the bridge. Two of the soldiers went down; Daniels saw one of them reach for a patch on the chestplate of his armor. Halloway grabbed the soldierâ€™s wrist and twisted it, then reached over and yanked the patch off the manâ€™s body.

_Which one is the captain?_ It was difficult to tell, for they all looked alike in their armor. Then a hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him to his feet. Somehow, Daniels managed to hold on to his phase pistol in the struggle for the weapon. Then the phase pistol went offâ€”Daniels never knew which one of them had fired it---and the shot slammed into the center of the soldierâ€™s chest at point-blank range.

Daniels hit the floor with enough force to knock the wind out of him, the phase pistol thrown out of sight by the impact. He struggled to his knees and crawled to the prone body of the fallen soldier. With an effort, he pushed the manâ€™s visor up.

â€œGod.â€ Daniels struck the comm button on the captainâ€™s chair. â€œMedical to the bridge!â€

Captain Matthew Hayes stared up at him, his eyes wide and unseeing.

**********

Trip Tucker calmly held the _ushaan-tor,_ the Andorian ritual weapon of vengeance. It reminded him of an ice-minerâ€™s tool. Strange, that he, a Human, was avenging a group of Tellarites, and fighting an Andorian. It was cultural blending to the maximum. He thought, _Too bad it couldnâ€™t have been peaceful._ The thought sparked an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Then he looked across the cargo bay to Talas, who wore her own _ushaan-tor_ and he felt the anger flare anew. _Concentrate on what matters. Donâ€™t let her distract you._

â€œAre you ready, Charles?â€ Talas asked. Trip couldnâ€™t see her expression, but the scorn in her tone was noticeable.

â€œWhenever you are, darlinâ€™,â€ he replied with a smirk.

They circled each other, appraising each otherâ€™s strengths and weaknesses, waiting for the other to crack first and make the opening strike. Thick silence fell over the cargo bay; all held their breath in anticipation. They grudgingly admired the Humanâ€™s resilience and sense of honor, but they shook their heads at the Humanâ€™s folly. Why was he assuming the revenge of their sworn enemies, the pig-headed Tellarites?

He was brave, but he was also foolish. They would never understand these pinkskins. Their commanderâ€™s brother had adopted a pinkskin into his family, and this one...

Trip refused to be mesmerized by those amethyst-colored eyes; he watched her feet, her hands, the tension of her body. When she finally attacked, he was ready for her. He blocked her punch with his forearm, then twisted his body out of the way, trying to make her stumble on her own feet. She was agile as a cat and she recovered quickly. He swung his gauntlet toward her lower back, but she also avoided the blow.

â€œPretty good,â€ he complimented her.

She raised an eyebrow and nodded. Then she launched herself into a flurry of offensive moves that kept him weaving from side to side like a snake. Talas was good, and she was fast, her blue skin and snow-white hair a blur. She kept him occupied enough that he couldnâ€™t mount an effective counteroffensive.

_Okay, enough of this._ He crouched low and swept his foot to the left, catching her by the ankle and she went down. She swung her blade, catching a glancing blow against his left thigh. Trip felt the sting of the metal; the pain smashed through his control and opened a floodgate of rage. He whipped around in a roundhouse kick that impacted Talasâ€™s shoulder. She grunted in pain and rolled away from him.

â€œYou want to kill me?â€ she snarled. â€œCome and get me!â€

He didnâ€™t answer with words, but pressed his advantage by not giving her a chance to strike back. _Channel your emotion into action. Make your mind clear of all barriers. Waste no movement._ He heard Sovalâ€™s voice in his mind, recalled the practice sessions in the Vulcan Consulate gardens, felt the bruises that drove the ambassadorâ€™s point home. Yet the anger threatened to overwhelm the memory; it gave him strength, but only for a limited time, and once he became tired...

He had to end this quickly before that happened.

Trip came up with a slash, catching Talas with a glancing blow on her right cheek. A stir went through the Andorians as her blood dripped onto the pristine deck. She wiped her cheek with her free hand.

â€œIf I did not know better, I would have thought you wanted to propose a bonding,â€ she goaded him as she flexed her fingers. â€œBad enough that my brother has adopted the captain of the _Columbia_ and his Human mate. I would not want more...variety in our genetic pool.â€

His mouth quirked upwards. â€œShran couldnâ€™t have picked a better â€˜brotherâ€™ and â€˜sisterâ€™, Talas. Maybe you oughta get to know â€˜em better. Open your mind, be more... _universal_. If the Vulcans can do it, you can too.â€

Talas laughed harshly. â€œThey are weak-minded, Tucker. Too bad your soul is so much like theirs.â€ She launched himself at him, slamming him to the deck, knocking the wind out of him. One flick of her wrist opened a cut at his temple, another flick gave him a cut on the back of his free hand. He was breathing hard now; it was worse than fighting off an enraged she-bear, for Talas planned every move to drain him.

Desperately, he lashed out with his open hand and caught Talas on the jaw. As she reeled back, his thrust with his blade, its serrated edge cutting into her left antenna. Talas shrieked and collapsed on the floor, stunned. Her Andorian crew gasped in horror, their hands going for the weapons on their belts.

Triumph raced through his veins. _Sheâ€™s defenseless! Kill her!_ He grabbed Talas by the throat as his blood streamed down his hand and raised his blade. Even if the Andorians shot him now, it wouldnâ€™t save their captain...Talas looked up at him, her face stoic and prepared for the killing blow.

â€œMy death will be on your conscience forever, Tucker,â€ she spat. â€œAnd I will haunt you until the day you die and beyond.â€

â€œSee you on the other side, then,â€ he snarled, but for some reason, his hand hesitated for a moment longer than necessary.

That moment was enough.

There was a familiar hum that echoed through the cargo bay. Trip felt himself dematerialize, fade away, and as Talas disappeared from his grasp, he howled in frustration, but no one heard his outcry.

**********

â€œWe got him!â€ shouted Transporter Chief Raymer. â€œHeâ€™s hurt!â€ 

â€œTrip? Trip!â€ The clipped British accent pierced his mental haze. â€œStop fighting me! Youâ€™re on _Enterprise_! Youâ€™re safe.â€

â€œWhatâ€™s he doing wearing an _ushaan-tor_?â€ came Jon Archerâ€™s voice. He felt Jonâ€™s weight on his right arm as Jon and...Bryan Trace?...struggled to unlatch the weapon from his hand.

â€œI had her! Dammit, I _had_ her! I could have gotten her! Why did you take me away? Why?â€ he screamed. â€œLet me go! Send me back there! I gotta finish what she started!â€

Malcolm Reedâ€™s voice was hoarse with worry and tension. â€œHeâ€™s got some kind of compound in his blood. I can counteract it, but we need to get him to Sickbay _now_!â€

â€œHeâ€™s struggling worse than a landed fish!â€ muttered Trace. â€œHold his legs still, Grant!â€

â€œIâ€™m sitting on his legs, Bryan!â€ Raymer shot back. â€œIâ€™m getting kicked in the kidneys here!â€

Trip felt two gentle hands on his either side of his jaw. They forced him to look directly into his captainâ€™s eyes. Hoshi Satoâ€™s dark brown eyes were calm and cold; her steady gaze touched the uncontrollable anger and grief within him. He tried to grab onto the anchor of sanity that she provided him.

â€œThatâ€™s enough, Trip,â€ she said, her command tone low and firm. â€œLet it go. Let it go now.â€

He managed to summon up some kind of control over the fiery dragon within him, and with it, the full implication of what he nearly did hit him. â€œOh God,â€ he whispered. â€œIâ€”â€œ

â€œDonâ€™t worry about it, Trip. Iâ€™ll talk to Shran; weâ€™ll sort it out. Just rest now.â€

â€œI canâ€™tâ€”â€œ He heard the hiss of the hypospray at his neck, then blessed darkness came over him.

**********

Hoshi glanced up at Malcolm, then nodded. â€œTake care of him, Malcolm.â€ 

He motioned for Raymer and Liz Cutler to help him get Trip on a stretcher. Hoshi forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. â€œJon, get in touch with Gral and thank him for the sensor data, then thank Shran for the override frequencies.â€

Jon nodded as he, Hoshi, and Bryan headed back to the Bridge. Phloxâ€™s voice echoed from the speakers. â€œPhlox to Sato.â€

â€œGo ahead, Phlox.â€

â€œImpulse engines are back on-line, warp drive will still be inoperative for another two hours. Iâ€™ve managed to shore up some of the anti-grav defenses on our starboard side, but that close explosion severely weakened the generators there.â€

â€œDo what you can, Phlox. The enemyâ€™s reinforcements will be here in four hours and ours won't arrive for four and a half. We have to hold on.â€

â€œAcknowledged. Phlox, out.â€

Hoshi turned to Bryan. â€œDid you get anything from Malcolmâ€™s friend?â€

Trace shook his head. â€œAll he told me is that heâ€™s something called a Suliban and that his people are a slave race of someone called the Romulans. Theyâ€™re the ones who kidnapped Lieutenant Commander Tucker and Doctor Reed and theyâ€™re the ones whoâ€™re taking potshots at us.â€

â€œRomulans?â€ Jon repeated. He and Hoshi exchanged glances. She knew what he was thinking. _Iâ€™Rhiamanau. Romulans. A coincidence?_ Somehow, Hoshi doubted it, but if it her suspicions were correct...her stomach dropped as she thought, _Have the Vulcans known all this time?_

Trace shrugged; he didnâ€™t notice his superior officersâ€™ expressions. He added, â€œThis Silikâ€™s sittinâ€™ in the brig right now. Ironically enough, itâ€™s the safest place for him.â€

The ship shuddered around them as if to make Traceâ€™s point. The lifts were still inoperative, so they clambered up the ladders leading to the bridge. It was controlled chaos by the time they arrived. The smell of burnt electrical wiring and insulation hung heavily in the air and screens flickered all over the bridge. Hoshi heard Tâ€™Pol murmur something under her breath, then smack her helm console with an open palm. It beeped in annoyance, but whatever she did apparently worked.

_I wonder if sheâ€™s feeling some of Tripâ€™s excess emotion._ Tâ€™Pol glanced over her shoulder and gave Hoshi an embarrassed (for a Vulcan) look. Hoshi gave Tâ€™Pol a reassuring smile, then Hoshi raised her voice.

â€œWeâ€™ve retrieved Lieutenant Commander Tucker. Heâ€™s in Sickbay, but he should be all right.â€ Her announcement set off a much needed burst of rejoicing. â€œStatus?â€

â€œThe enemyâ€™s dropped back,â€ reported Ensign Martinez. He nodded as Lieutenant Trace reclaimed his spot at the Tactical station, but Martinez continued his report. â€œTheyâ€™ve taken a beating, but it seems like theyâ€™re just biding their time until their reinforcements get here.â€

â€œI would suggest the wisest course of action is to be absent from this area when they arrive,â€ Tâ€™Pol commented. Her dark amber-brown eyes flashed, although the rest of her face was impassive. Hoshi wondered if she was having difficulty with her own emotional control. Her mother, Tâ€™Les, was afraid this might happen. Once this was all over, Hoshi needed to sit down and talk to Tâ€™Pol in private.

â€œCommander Phlox says he needs two hours to get the warp drive back on-line. Weâ€™ve got to give him time.â€ She glanced at Jon. â€œGet me Minister Tâ€™Pau. Ensign Tâ€™Pol, will you accompany me to my Ready Roomâ€”â€œ

â€œCaptain, report from _Columbia_ ,â€ Jon interrupted. He looked over at Hoshi with a controlled expression. â€œItâ€™s Commander Daniels. Theyâ€™ve found Captain Hayes.â€


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: Hayesâ€™s â€œalternate memoryâ€ is based on the scene in ENT â€œCountdownâ€ when he dies in Sickbay and the one in ENT â€œThe Xindiâ€, when Hoshi Sato joins Hayes and his MACOs for lunch.  
  
In â€œMay the Wind Be at Our Backsâ€, High Minister Vâ€™Lar had allowed Commander Phlox access to â€œpulse emittersâ€ that can penetrate shields without draining them completely. Phlox tried to implement them to rescue Tâ€™Pol, but it wasnâ€™t successful. In this chapter, Tâ€™Pau and Tâ€™Pol have a â€œdiscussionâ€ about the dangers of sharing information among species (not limited to technology).  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

**Twelve**

_â€œI told him Iâ€™m ready for duty.â€_

_He tried to focus on Reedâ€™s reply, something about Phlox and "mother hens", but the brick on his chest was getting heavier and heavier. Damn, it was getting hard to breathe, but he fought to stay conscious. A sense of dread nagged at him: He was afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might not open them again._

_MACOs were never afraid._

_â€œSorry, Matt, but you know, as well as I do, thatâ€™s a bunch of bull.â€_

_â€œWhat?â€ He thought that he heard Hoshi Satoâ€™s gentle, teasing voice. Hoshi? Was sheâ€”? He managed to ask the question, â€œHowâ€™s Ensign Sato?â€_

_Reed glanced at Phlox and the doctor said, â€œHer biosigns are stable.â€_

_â€œThank you for bringing her home,â€ Reed said._

_He tried to smile. â€œAll in a dayâ€™s work,â€ he replied, but the joke fell flat. Matt knew Lieutenant Reed cared more for Hoshi than he was willing to admit. Maybe if things had been different, if Matt Hayes hadnâ€™t been so dedicated to other things...it didnâ€™t matter now._

_Mattâ€™s eyes grew heavy, but he fought with whatever energy he had left. He remembered the exact time he had fallen for Hoshi: that first time when sheâ€™d joined him and his men for lunch, and sheâ€™d guessed Kemperâ€™s origin just by his â€œinflections.â€_

_â€œEnsign Sato is a linguist. Give her enough time and she could probably tell you which street you grew up on,â€ heâ€™d told a bemused Kemper. Hoshi had grinned and blushed slightly as Romero and Chang laughed. Matt had returned the grin as he looked into her deep brown eyes and..._

_He opened his mouth to tell Reed to take care of Hoshi,_ his Hoshi, _but he decided to spare Reed the pain. The lieutenant was in love with her too. Maybe Reed would take care of her, since he couldnâ€™t. And there were others he needed to think about at this moment..._

_Instead, he whispered, â€œUse McKenzie. She knows the team. Rely on her.â€_

_â€œStop that talk. That's an order.â€_

_Matt tried to say more, but the brick on his chest exploded, the agonizing heat ripped into his heart and all went black. He fell, weightless, into the abyss, screaming her name, then..._

**********

His eyes snapped open and he gasped for air. A hand gripped his, while others held him down. God, his chest hurt like hell; that brick was still there. Then, just as abruptly, the brick disappeared into nothing at all. His hearing came back with a roar, and he heard the reassuring beep of sensors over the biobed. Biobed? He was in Sickbay?

â€œMatt? Matt? Youâ€™re safe, youâ€™re home. Relax.â€

_Her_ voice. He seized on it like the lifeline it was. He turned his head and saw her. Her impeccable braid was starting to come out of its bun and exhaustion showed in her eyes. Immediately, he felt the need to protect her from the shadows, to shield that vulnerability. Hoshi managed a shaky smile and he returned it.

â€œHoshi?â€ he rasped, his throat dry. â€œWhatâ€”?â€ Memory came back in a rush and his cheeks flamed as he remembered what heâ€™d nearly done to his own ship. He would have gotten up, but Hoshi pushed him back down on the biobed. â€œIs everyone all right? Did Iâ€”?â€

â€œWeâ€™re all fine, sir. Luckily, you didnâ€™t do too much damage.â€ J.T. Daniels chuckled, but it had an embarrassed tone to it. â€œIâ€™m sorry for, umâ€”â€œ

â€œIâ€™ll remember that when I have to shoot _you_ in the chest, J.T.,â€ he growled. â€œI just might have time to check if itâ€™s on stun.â€

Daniels and Doctor Arroyo exchanged glances. â€œHeâ€™s back,â€ Daniels deadpanned, but his eyes betrayed his relief. â€œAnd crankier than ever.â€

â€œIâ€™ll take â€˜crankyâ€™ over a serious case of â€˜deadâ€™ any time, J.T.â€ Hoshi squeezed Mattâ€™s hand. He saw the pain and worry in her eyes and his heart nearly stopped again. â€œDammit, thatâ€™s the fifth time youâ€™ve scared the hell out of me, Matt. Donâ€™t do that again.â€

He frowned; heâ€™d definitely had his share of close calls in his Starfleet career, but being a former Armory officer and a member of Starfleet Security made dying an occupational hazard. â€œOnly the fifth?â€

Rosie Arroyo sighed, her face serious. â€œYou flatlined _twice_ in twenty minutes, Captain. We nearly didnâ€™t get you back the _second_ time. Captain Sato said that if you died, she was going to kill you. I, for one, am glad you listened to her.â€

â€œIâ€™m not going to piss off a woman who has a black belt in aikido, Rosie,â€ Matt said with a chuckle. The adrenaline rush was fading, as so was his awareness. He relaxed back into the pillow and squeezed Hoshiâ€™s hand. â€œIâ€™ve done it before. Iâ€™m gonna try my damnedest not to do it again.â€

â€œIâ€™m holding you to that,â€ Hoshi said. He heard the rustle of movement above him, then Hoshiâ€™s lips on his. Just before he fell back into a healing sleep, he heard someoneâ€”maybe it was Major Kemperâ€”say, â€œI guess those rumors arenâ€™t rumors anymore.â€

**********

Commander Phlox didnâ€™t need sleep like Humans did; he hibernated for six days a year, but he was acutely aware that his colleagues needed time to rest. Heâ€™d had to literally throw both Lieutenants Hess and Rostov out of Engineering and order them five hoursâ€™ worth of sleep. 

He stared at the diagnostics readout, blinked, then stared at them again. A wide grin broke out on his face and he chuckled under his breath.

â€œJeez, Commander, I hate to tell you this, but your smile really creeps me out,â€ said Lieutenant Richard Kelby.

â€œForgive me,â€ Phlox said, though he didnâ€™t sound sorry, and he widened his smile just for effect. Kelby winced again, and the Denobulan toned down the wattage of his smile. â€œIt looks like we might be able to get the warp engines running ahead of schedule. I want to run one more diagnostic and one more simulation before I inform Captain Sato. Mister Kelby, would you do the honors?â€

â€œSure, Commander,â€ Kelby replied, not bothering to hide his relief.

Phlox turned back to his computer screen and he felt his smile vanish as he assessed the situation. _The warp drive is almost fully repaired, but the power flow is sluggish, as if there is some kind of interference. Lieutenant Hessâ€™s diagnostics havenâ€™t found any problems, but apparently itâ€™s been a problem on all of our ships, Human, Andorian, Tellarite and Vulcan, so the problem does not lie within Admiral Archerâ€™s engine._ He tapped his chin with the index finger of his left hand, while he brought up schematics with his right hand.

It definitely didnâ€™t help that theseâ€”Romulansâ€”had boxed them in like a Denobulan fighter-crab trapping its meal. Commander Mayweather had identified at least six of their cloaked ships present, with more on the way. It also didnâ€™t help that theyâ€™d been able to beam over incursion teams on both _Enterprise_ and _Columbia_ despite all the starshipsâ€™ defenses...

_Wait a moment._ Phlox went back within the engineering database and brought up the schematics of the shield pulse emitters. The Vulcans had given them the specs nearly three months before, when _Enterprise_ had helped stop a planetary coup. The emitters could have workedâ€”would have workedâ€”had there not been any interference. The goal was to weaken the shields, but not destroy them.

What if the enemy had something similar? Some kind of dampening field that affected shipâ€™s systems? If that was true, then the Romulans had discovered a new weapon that had dire consequences for future encounters. Phlox tapped the communication button. â€œPhlox to Mayweather.â€

â€œGo ahead, Commander.â€

â€œI may have found a clue to our power consumption problems. Can you and Lieutenant Trace come down to Engineering? I will need your assistance.â€

â€œWeâ€™re on our way, Phlox. Mayweather, out.â€

**********

â€œThe energy signatures are similar,â€ Travis said, as he compared Phloxâ€™s scans with his own. â€œThat would explain why the fleet canâ€™t warp out of here, now that weâ€™ve got all of our people back.â€ 

â€œIt is based on a Vulcan shipboard defense system,â€ said Ensign Tâ€™Pol. Sheâ€™d insisted on accompanying Travis and Bryan to Engineering, and now Travis was glad she had. Her tone was flat and without emotion, a sure sign that this discovery wasnâ€™t good for the Vulcans. â€œApparently, they have resources we have not anticipated.â€

â€œThey need a lot of ships to pull this off,â€ Bryan Trace commented. â€œThatâ€™s probably why they called their buddies for backup. If their reinforcements get here, theyâ€™ll be strong enough to keep any of us from escaping.â€

Travis glanced at Phlox. â€œCan you counteract the dampening effect?â€

â€œGiven enough time and resources, I can, but I understand weâ€™re under a deadline,â€ Phlox replied, â€œand Iâ€™ll need the cooperation of all of the shipsâ€”â€œ

Bryan winced and said, â€œAfter Lieutenant Commander Tuckerâ€™s fight with Lieutenant Talas, the Andorians arenâ€™t exactly happy with us. Captain Shranâ€™s the only one whoâ€™ll still talk with us.â€

â€œThen we will ask Shran for his assistance and I will explain the situation to Minister Tâ€™Pau. We must also convince Captain Gral,â€ Tâ€™Pol replied, her tone frosty.

â€œIâ€™ll talk to Gral,â€ Bryan said. He glanced at Travis. â€œWhat about our...visitor? I got the impression heâ€™d might know a thing or two about our unwelcome friends.â€

Tâ€™Pol raised her eyebrows, for no one had told her about Silikâ€™s presence on _Enterprise_. It was Travisâ€™s turn to wince. â€œAsk him, but we have to be careful about what he tells us. We still donâ€™t know what his motivations are.â€

Bryan nodded, as if Travisâ€™s answer confirmed his own suspicions. â€œYes, Commander.â€

â€œTâ€™Pol, youâ€™ve got the ship systems experience; I want you to stay here with Phlox and puzzle this out. Bryan, talk to Gral, and Iâ€™ll let Captain Sato know about what weâ€™re doing.â€

The impromptu meeting broke up and both Travis and Bryan left Engineering. Tâ€™Pol turned to Phlox and said, â€œI must speak with Minister Tâ€™Pau.â€

â€œUse my office. I will make sure you arenâ€™t interrupted.â€

**********

Tâ€™Pau listened to her report as she outlined everything she had learned so far. Tâ€™Pol noticed the slight tightening of her lips when she heard about the similarity in technologies. It was illogical to feel satisfaction at anotherâ€™s discomfiture, but Tâ€™Pol felt it all the same. She strengthened her shields; the residual swirl of emotions from both Doctor Reed and Lieutenant Commander Tucker was starting to affect her as well. 

â€œSo Commander Phlox believes he can counter the dampening effect before the enemy reinforcements arrives?â€

â€œHe believes _we_ can counter it. Each ship must implement the same restart sequence at the same time to activate the countermeasures. The Tellarite and Andorian ships may be of different design, but the basic principles powering them are still the same.â€ Tâ€™Pol raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge. â€œI suggested to Commander Phlox that it would be more prudent to ask for your assistance, as opposed to simply implement his ideas without your knowledge.â€

â€œI am gratified you still consider the political implications of such a joint effort,â€ Tâ€™Pau said, her voice still without inflection. â€œSharing our technology is acceptable...within certain limits. Once the Andorians, the Humans and the Tellarites have access to this, we will have to rebuild our own defenses. Have you considered such an outcome?â€

Tâ€™Pol clenched her hands into fists, being careful not to let Tâ€™Pau see them. â€œI have, and I can reassure you that I will assume the responsibility of designing the needed...countermeasures. I recall that it was High Minister Vâ€™Lar who had given Commander Phlox access to the shield harmonic data in the first place.â€

That got a reaction from Tâ€™Pau: a nod of grudging agreement. â€œYes...desperate times calls for desperate measures.â€

â€œLady Tâ€™Pau, I know I have vowed not to reveal certain kinds of...sensitive information before the time is correct, but I suspect that Captain Sato and Lieutenant Archer may suspect the link between the _Iâ€™Rhiamanau_ and our new foe. What shall I say, when the inevitable questions arise from them?â€

Her tone was respectful, as was proper, but Tâ€™Pauâ€™s eyes blazed at the silent implication. After a long moment of reflection, Tâ€™Pau answered, â€œNothing has changed, Tâ€™Pol. Do not reveal anything that concerns Vulcan planetary security. If Captain Sato wants answers, refer her to me and I will resolve the matter.â€

â€œOf course.â€ Tâ€™Pol bowed her head in agreement. â€œI will follow your words of advice.â€

Tâ€™Pau nodded again. â€œVery well, Tâ€™Pol. I trust you. _Surak,_ out.â€

Her image disappeared, but Tâ€™Pol regarded the empty screen for a moment. _Do you trust me, Tâ€™Pau? And even more important, can I trust you?_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em. Dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em. Donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: More â€œbleedthroughâ€ from the â€œreal universeâ€ to this AU, and Silik gives Malcolm a clue to why â€œthings arenâ€™t the way theyâ€™re supposed to be.â€  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

****

Thirteen

â€œIâ€™m ready to go back to work, Doc.â€

Doctor Malcolm Reed shook his head in exasperation. â€œAbsolutely _not_ , Lieutenant Commander. You practically _died_ in surgery and only your stubbornness saved you. Lie down or Iâ€™ll have Lieutenant Trace put you in restraints. Your choice.â€

Trip glared at him. â€œYou wouldnâ€™t dare. Besides, Bryan wouldnâ€™t do it.â€

Malcolm raised his eyebrows and replied, â€œI wouldnâ€™t underestimate your second-in-commandâ€™s resourcefulness, Mister Tucker.â€

Suddenly, Trip chuckled as he lay back among the pillows. â€œYeah, heâ€™s been doing a damn good job filling in while I was gone. Gral told me the kidâ€™s even more convincing than I am.â€

Malcolm smirked. â€œAre you worried that Lieutenant Trace is after your job?â€

â€œYeah, heâ€™ll probably get it, eventually, but Bryanâ€™s still got a lot to learn.â€ Trip closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and winced.

â€œI warned you about doing too much too fast.â€ Malcolm reached over and plucked the PADD out of Tripâ€™s hand. Malcolm glanced at it. â€œSomething from Phlox?â€

â€œShield emitter specs. He thinks he can find a way to get us out of this spider web before the enemy reinforcements arrive. Weâ€™ve been poring over this ever since the Vulcans gave â€˜em to us, and I think that we can modify it to good use.â€ A slight grin came over Tripâ€™s face as he watched Malcolm study the information with interest. â€œDidnâ€™t think you were an engineer, Doc.â€

Malcolm shook his head and replied, â€œIâ€™m not, but remember, my father is in weaponry research and development. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, so he gave me a basic background in the workings of defensive weaponry.â€

â€œYou never told me that. The fact that your dad wanted you to be a weapons guy.â€

He shrugged. â€œJust the basics, and he even made me take self-defense classes as well. Speaking of which...Jon and Hoshi spoke with Shran an hour ago. He wasnâ€™t exactly in the best of moods.â€

â€œYeah, well...â€ Trip grimaced again, but not because of physical pain this time. â€œI wasnâ€™t exactly...myself when I transported onto Talasâ€™s ship. I know I couldâ€™ve killed her, Doc. I probably would have, if you guys hadnâ€™t pulled me out in time.â€ He ran a bandaged hand over his face and added, â€œIâ€™ll be surprised if Talas doesnâ€™t decide to challenge me to a duel after I sliced off her antenna. And even if I won _that_ , Iâ€™m sure her brother would be next in line to kick my ass, as well as about thirty other Andorians.â€

â€œActually, it was probably just as well you â€˜justâ€™ sliced off her antenna.â€

Trip blinked. â€œIâ€™m not followinâ€™ ya, Doc.â€

â€œAn _ushaan_ is considered satisfied when one of the combatants is disabled and cannot fight. Itâ€™ll take nine months for Talasâ€™s antenna to grow back, six months with cranial stimulation.â€ At Tripâ€™s further confusion, Malcolm clarified, â€œThe antennae serve to balance an Andorianâ€™s equilibrium. She wonâ€™t be fighting anyone anytime soon.â€

â€œSo I did both of us a favor.â€

â€œQuite.â€ Malcolm continued to study the specs on Tripâ€™s PADD. â€œSo this is what Minister Tâ€™Pau sent Phlox to save Tâ€™Pol from the Syklonian ship a few months back?â€

â€œYeah, it wouldâ€™ve worked, too.â€ Trip gave him a short lecture on the basic workings of one of the shield phase emitters. Like always, his headache lessened when he was discussing technology, whether it was Starfleet or Vulcan. To Tripâ€™s surprise, Malcolm nodded as he listened, and stroked his goatee in a contemplative manner. It reminded Trip of a professor heâ€™d had in one of his engineering courses at the University of Florida.

_Malcolm as an engineer or an armory officer?_ Yeah, Trip could see it. He thought, _The Armory mightâ€™ve gained a good man if he hadnâ€™t gone into the medical field instead. Damn. One of those â€œmightâ€™ve beensâ€, kinda like me and engineerinâ€™._ A slight smile played on his lips as he added, _Yeah, in another universe, maybe._

â€œSome kind of energy drain...where would they be diverting the energy? To their own systems?â€

Trip nodded. â€œPhlox thinks so. Thatâ€™d explain why theyâ€™ve been able to keep up with this for so long. If we can disrupt that, thatâ€™ll be a huge dent in their defenses. When I was over there, with Captain Hayesâ€”â€œ he suppressed a shudder, but he knew that Malcolm still saw it, â€œâ€”I kinda remember them givinâ€™ me an engineerinâ€™-type puzzle, somethinâ€™ about their cloakinâ€™ device.â€

â€œPerhaps the two systems are tied together in some way?â€ Malcolm queried. â€œOne feeds off or supports the other?â€

â€œThatâ€™s kinda dangerous, Doc. If one failed, the other would fail too, and these folks strike me as smart enough not to make that mistake.â€ Trip frowned and thought hard, even though he could feel another headache throbbing at his temples. â€œThough...they donâ€™t have a lotta room on those ships; maybe they didnâ€™t have much of a choice. If we can exploit a weakness like thatâ€”â€œ

â€œA feedback loop,â€ Malcolm murmured, but it had a distracted tone to it. â€œCan you use the pulse emitter to do that?â€

Trip gave him a surprised look, but he said, â€œThatâ€™s what Phlox said too, but heâ€™s tryinâ€™ to find a way to do it without blowinâ€™ up every relay in engineering and the armory.â€

â€œA pity we couldnâ€™t divert that energy into our own systemsâ€”â€œ

Tripâ€™s headache threatened to explode in his temples, but he felt the excitement fluttering in his stomach. â€œWait a sec, Doc. Hold that thought. Maybe if we get down to engineerinâ€™â€”â€œ

Malcolm turned and hit the intercom button. â€œReed to Phlox.â€

â€œPhlox here,â€ said the chief engineer. â€œWeâ€™re a bit busy down here, Doctorâ€”â€œ

â€œI believe Lieutenant Commander Tucker might have a thought or two about our dampening field problem. I figured you two would want to chat before Mister Tucker decided to disregard my orders to keep him in Sickbay and escape to Engineering.â€

A glimmer of humor came into Phloxâ€™s voice. â€œYou were prudent to call me instead, Doctor Reed. I am listening avidly for your input, Lieutenant Commander.â€

Before Trip opened his mouth, Malcolm gave him back his PADD, and the doctor picked up a hypospray instead. With one swift motion, he emptied the contents into Tripâ€™s neck.

â€œWhat the hell was _that_ for, Doc?â€

â€œConsider it an exercise in brevity, Mister Tucker. You have exactly twenty minutes to explain your ideas to Commander Phlox before the sedative kicks in.â€

_â€œMalcolm!â€_ Trip all but growled. He sighed and said, â€œFine. Phlox, the Doc and I were chattinâ€™ andâ€”â€œ

Malcolm grinned and leaned against the wall beside Tripâ€™s biobed. He steadfastly concentrated on Tripâ€™s rapid-fire explanation...it was amazing how much more quickly Trip got to the point when he was under such a deadline.

And to be honest, Malcolm was thankful for the diversion. It kept him from thinking about Hoshi, and how sheâ€™d beamed over to _Columbia_ to see Matt Hayes. Doctor Rosie Arroyo told him that Hayes had literally died _twice_ before theyâ€™d brought him back. Luckily, there hadnâ€™t been any permanent damage; whatever had been in Hayesâ€™s system while he had been under the Romulansâ€™ influence was gone.

And as he looked at Trip, he remembered the panic and dread that had flooded his mind when the Armory officerâ€™s heartbeat faded during surgery to repair the internal injuries Trip had suffered during his duel with Talas. _I really donâ€™t like the thought of having to stop someoneâ€™s heart and â€˜killâ€™ them to break the Sulibanâ€™s brainwashing. Too many things can go wrong, as Rosie and Hayes nearly found out._

Malcolm frowned as he realized that no one had mentioned their Suliban â€œguestâ€ ever since heâ€™d come back to _Enterprise_. Chances were good that Silik was still cooling his heels in the Brig, if Lieutenant Trace wasnâ€™t finished interrogating him yet. Silik had saved his life; Malcolm owed him that, if nothing more.

Malcolm grabbed his scanner and his belt pouch and left Sickbay. Trip, still engrossed in his conversation with Phlox, didnâ€™t notice him leave.

**********

â€œI was about to call you, Doctor,â€ said the guard on duty. He looked scared out of his wits as he jerked a thumb to the door of the brig. â€œI think thereâ€™s something wrong with him.â€ 

Malcolmâ€™s heart leaped into his throat. â€œWhatâ€™s wrong, Crewman El-Sadr?â€

â€œHe hasnâ€™t said a word since Lieutenant Trace finished talking with him. He hasnâ€™t touched any food or water, and heâ€™s...become transparent.â€

â€œ _Excuse me?_ â€ Malcolmâ€™s eyes widened at the last two words. â€œ _Transparent_?â€

â€œI think youâ€™d better see for yourself, Doctor. I was about to call Captain Sato...is she back from _Columbia_?â€

Malcolm shook his head. â€œIâ€™ve been in Sickbay, so I have no idea...if she isnâ€™t, you might call Lieutenant Trace and Commander Mayweather. Lieutenant Commander Tucker is still confined to bed.â€

â€œYes, sir.â€ El-Sadr visibly swallowed, then stepped aside for Malcolm to pass, so he could get to the wall comm.   
Malcolm regretted his brusque tone; it wasnâ€™t the ladâ€™s fault for wanting to know where Captain Sato was. He forced his mind off that path and stepped into Silikâ€™s cell.

â€œSilik?â€ The lights were dim in the cell, so he nearly missed the Suliban, who sat far away from the door. Even in the darkness, Malcolm barely saw the outlines of his body against the gloom.

â€œI was hoping youâ€™d come, sooner or later, Doctor.â€ Silik looked up at him with glowing eyes. â€œIâ€™ve told your lieutenant everything I could remember...about the Romulans and my people trapped aboard their ships. I didnâ€™t know anything about their weaponry...I wasnâ€™t allowed access to them.â€

Malcolm raised his hand to stop him. â€œIâ€™m not here to force you to give up information, Silik.â€

The Suliban smiled faintly at his words.â€œWe have different views on what a doctor should be doing, then.â€

â€œOh? And what is your view on what a doctor should be doing?â€

â€œA doctor is meant to keep people alive...when necessary, and kill...when necessary.â€

Malcolm opened his mouth to say something about that, but the words didnâ€™t come out. Different people, different views, no matter how foreign it sounded. Instead, he said, â€œI came to thank you for saving my life.â€

â€œAnd I want to thank you for saving mine. Obviously, you serve a higher cause than the ones with whom I am familiar.â€ Silik took a deep breath, then let it out. â€œI donâ€™t have much time now, Doctor.â€

Alarmed, Malcolm took out his scanner and compared Silikâ€™s readings with the baseline heâ€™d taken when Silik was put in the brig. The Sulibanâ€™s vital signs were extremely low, much lower than Malcolm expected. He took out a hypospray and moved toward Silik, but the Suliban hissed and moved away.

â€œNo. There is nothing you can do.â€

â€œLet me help you.â€

â€œYou can help by listening to me. You know this isnâ€™t how itâ€™s supposed to be.â€

Malcolm froze at his words, his heart in his throat. â€œI donâ€™t know what you mean.â€

â€œI believe you do, Doctor.â€ Silik shook his head sadly. â€œIt isnâ€™t supposed to happen this way. This event between your species and mine...and the Romulans. Your capture, and the capture of your Lieutenant Commander Tucker and Captain Hayes. And the very fact that Hayes is alive.â€

â€œHeâ€™s supposed to be dead?â€ Malcolm asked with a frown. â€œHe was supposed to die on the Romulan ship? Or aboard _Columbia_?â€

â€œNeither. Heâ€”â€œ Silik shivered, then seemed to dredge up strength to continue, â€œDo not envy Hayes, Doctor. Allow him whatever joy in the time he has left. Be strong for him...and for Hoshi, for she will need you.â€

â€œYouâ€™re speaking in riddles, Silik. I donâ€™t understandâ€”â€œ

The doors opened behind him to admit Lieutenant Trace and Commander Mayweather. Travis looked worse for wear; Malcolm saw the exhaustion under the Boomerâ€™s controlled expression. Trace, for his part, had his phase pistol out and ready.

â€œHeâ€™s not well,â€ Malcolm told them. â€œHeâ€™s dying.â€

â€œWhat?â€ Travis burst out. â€œCanâ€™t you do anything for him?â€

â€œNo.â€ Malcolm shook his head. â€œUnfortunately, there isnâ€™t anything I can do.â€

Silik looked at Mayweather. â€œIf you want to know about the Romulans, Commander Mayweather, you should ask the Vulcans. They know about them.â€

â€œThe Vulcans?â€ Mayweather asked, confusion on his face.

â€œYes, the Vulcans.â€ Silik sounded tired, and he smiled weakly at them. â€œAsk them.â€

Malcolm took a step towards him, while Trace raised his phase pistol. â€œSilikâ€”â€œ

â€œRemember what I said...and remember me, Doctor.â€ The words were little more than a sigh. A gust of warm air passed by them, followed by the gradual fading of those enigmatic golden eyes...

And Silik was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: Lots of action...Iâ€™ve divided the scenes to make it easier to keep track of whatâ€™s going on where. Our heroes have to work together to escape the Romulansâ€™ trap. Loyalties are made...and kept, and there will be some ominous signs for the future relations with the Andorians and the Vulcans.  
  
This wonâ€™t be a â€œreset to the â€˜normal universeâ€™â€. I really like this AU, but there will still be some â€œnormal universe bleedthroughâ€. As for Matt Hayesâ€™ eventual fate (and poor Malcolmâ€™s dilemma)...itâ€™ll be resolved eventually. Thereâ€™s still some interesting developments on that front thatâ€™ll come up soon.  
  
Rating: T  
  


* * *

****

Fourteen

**Captainâ€™s Log April 7, 2155**

Commander Phlox, Ensign Tâ€™Pol, Lieutenant Commander Tucker, and Lieutenant Trace have adjusted the shield emitter technology to counteract the Romulansâ€™ dampening field. It has taken someâ€”adamant, not to mention delicateâ€”negotiation to convince the other Allies to follow suit. I thank the stars for Lieutenant Archer...his skills have been invaluable in this effort.

After a lull, the Romulans and their Suliban allies have resumed their attacks. We must get this right the first time; there will not be a second chance.

**Captainâ€™s Personal Log, April 7, 2155**

I cannot believe how stubborn Tellarites, Vulcans and Andorians can be, even when the evidence is there in front of their eyes! Jon knows how to tread the dangerous waters of interspecies negotiation, thank goodness. If this works, weâ€™ll all be out of this area in half an hour. If not...well, I donâ€™t want to think about that.

Our Suliban â€œguestâ€ has disappeared from the brig, just like a ghost. I wouldnâ€™t have believed it if Bryan, Malcolm and Travis hadnâ€™t seen it themselves. Travis told me Silikâ€™s words: â€œAsk the Vulcansâ€. I have, and the answers have been unsatisfactory, as far as Iâ€™m concerned.

**********

Jon Archer glared at Minister Tâ€™Pauâ€™s image on the screen, his green eyes blazing with suppressed anger. Hoshi sat quietly at her desk, her breath suspended, as she watched the diplomat at work. Next to her sat a haggard-looking Malcolm Reed. She doubted that Malcolm was completely recovered from his ordeal on the Romulan ship; his endurance couldnâ€™t last much longer. 

â€œI must be here,â€ heâ€™d told her, when Hoshi had suggested that he rest. â€œThe crew will need its doctor, after this is over.â€ Now, Malcolmâ€™s face was impassive as ever as he regarded Vulcanâ€™s Minister of Security. Next to him, Ensign Tâ€™Pol was just as impassive, but Hoshi could feel a slow, burning anger coming from the young woman.

â€œOur ancestors have recorded contacts with the Suliban,â€ Tâ€™Pau confirmed. â€œThey were a peaceful race, but they were conquered by a succession of invaders. About nine hundred years ago, their planet was destroyed in an interstellar conflict, and their race scattered.â€

â€œAnd were conquered yet again,â€ Malcolm murmured.

â€œYes, Doctor Reed.â€ Tâ€™Pauâ€™s voice was uncharacteristically soft, her gaze sympathetic. Hoshi wondered if Tâ€™Pau shared Hoshiâ€™s concern about Malcolmâ€™s health. â€œThey disappear from our history, until now.â€

â€œAre the _Iâ€™Rhiamanau_ and the Romulans one and the same?â€ Jon asked.

Tâ€™Pau brought her attention to him and any emotion in her eyes sank under the surface. â€œThere is no proof of that, Jonathan, though it seems they were involved with the disappearances of Beta Polaris and the other ancient Vulcan colonies. There is the distinct possibility of intermarriage between the conquerors and their conquered races. If that supposition is correct, then genetics dictate that these â€˜Romulansâ€™ are actually a blend of different races.â€

â€œThat is an intriguing possibility,â€ Malcolm agreed. â€œThey hide their faces and bodies behind heavy armor, which is rigged for self-destruction, should they fall in battle. They donâ€™t want to be seen.â€

â€œIndeed.â€ Tâ€™Pau closed her eyes briefly; Hoshi realized that the Vulcan hadnâ€™t rested at all since the crisis began. Tâ€™Pau opened them again. â€œWhen we return to Vulcan, I will be interested in hearing your recollections in detail, Doctor. Perhaps we can trace their origins in a deliberate and more logical manner.â€

Malcolm nodded. â€œPerhaps,â€ he agreed, but his tone guaranteed nothing.

Tâ€™Pau brought her attention to Tâ€™Pol. â€œI would request your assistance as well, Tâ€™Pol. Your mother has found new information from Beta Polaris; it would be highly interesting to compare it to the previous database.â€

Tâ€™Pol only nodded, but didnâ€™t speak. Tâ€™Pau noticed her reticence and Hoshi saw...something...flash across Tâ€™Pauâ€™s face. Anger, regret, irritation? It was difficult to tell, but Hoshi knew there was something wrong between the two. Had both of them had a falling-out of sorts, or was there something more?

â€œCaptain Sato, I will contact you again, once we are safely away from our enemies.â€

â€œOf course, Lady Tâ€™Pau. Good luck to you.â€

â€œAnd to us all. _Surak_ , out.â€ Tâ€™Pauâ€™s image vanished and Hoshiâ€™s screen went black.

â€œSheâ€™s hiding something,â€ Malcolm said flatly.

Jon nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. He added, â€œShe sidestepped my question about the _Iâ€™Rhiamanau_ , and she seemed quite eager to question you when we get back to Vulcan. She wants to know exactly what you saw and heard while you were over there, Malcolm.â€

â€œIndeed. If I hadnâ€™t known better, I would say Tâ€™Pau was nervous about the prospect.â€

Hoshi glanced at Tâ€™Pol, who was still staring at the screen. â€œTâ€™Pol? Are you all right?â€

She nodded and said, â€œI am well, Captain, though I admit to a sense of trepidation about the future of Earth/Vulcan relations after this.â€

The captain sighed and passed a hand over her tired eyes. â€œSo do I, but thatâ€™ll have to wait until we get out of here. I asked Phlox to notify me when all is ready and he should be just about thereâ€”â€œ

As if summoned, Phloxâ€™s voice came through the communication speaker. â€œPhlox to Sato. Weâ€™re ready to implement the restart sequence among the fleet.â€

â€œThank you, Commander.â€ Hoshi looked up at her crew. â€œCondition Red. Letâ€™s do this.â€

**********

On board the Tellarite ship _Hâ€™wande,_ Captain Gral received the request from _Enterprise_. He punched a button on his command chair. â€œEngineering, is everything ready?â€ 

â€œYes, sir,â€ came the reply. â€œWe are prepared to restart all shipâ€™s systems on your mark.â€

â€œGood. Stand by.â€ He closed the channel and added in a low voice, â€œAnd may the Great Sow have mercy on all our souls.â€

**********

Captain Shran nodded in satisfaction as he heard the confirmation from the _Kumari_ â€™s engineer. â€œVery well. Get me Asahari.â€ His viewscreen reformed into the image of Lieutenant Talas; he started in surprise. â€œSister! You should be resting! Whyâ€”?â€ 

Talas gave him a look of affectionate scorn. â€œI am fit for duty, Brother, as long as I donâ€™t move around overly much.â€

Shran winced at his the icy tone of his sisterâ€™s voice and said, â€œAlways the warrior, Talas. I wouldnâ€™t expect less of you. Is all ready on your ship?â€

â€œYes, Captain. We are prepared to follow your lead.â€ Talasâ€™s violet eyes flashed as she continued, â€œWhen we return to Andoria, I wish to claim Grievance against your Soul-Brotherâ€™s friend and fellow officer.â€

Shran stared at her. â€œYouâ€™re telling me this _now_?â€

â€œIâ€™m giving you fair warning. I realize that you hold Captain Hayes and his mate in high regard, but to have a dishonorable man like Tucker under their service...is abominable. I will seek Grievance, Shran, and we will see who will prevail.â€ Her mouth went up in a sneer. â€œ _Asahari_ , out.â€

â€œTalas, waitâ€”â€œ Shran sat back, stunned, as her face winked out. Various Human and Andorian curses went through his mind. _This could undermine everything he and Hayes had worked for over the past several months. I must warn Matthew, when this is all over._ He paused in his thoughts and added, _When have I begun to think of him as â€˜Matthewâ€™?_

He forced himself to put the conflict aside; there was the minor matter of surviving this and getting back to Andoria. Even as he concentrated on Commander Phloxâ€™s ridiculous plan, a corner of his brain worried about Talasâ€™s intentions.

**********

â€œChief Engineer Opaht reports all ready, Captain,â€ said Commander Daniels. 

â€œGood. Stand by.â€ Captain Hayes turned slowly in his command chair and hit the intercom button. â€œAll hands, this is the Captainâ€”â€œ he broke off as the sound of cheering floated up from the lower decks, and it broke through his formal demeanor. _Damn, itâ€™s good to be home,_ he thought. Aloud, he continued, â€œWe are about to implement system restart. Sit tight and hang on. Weâ€™ll be out of here soon. Hayes, out.â€

He nodded at Daniels. â€œAll right. Send the acknowledgment message to _Enterprise_.â€

â€œYes, sir.â€

Hayes sighed and closed his eyes briefly. Despite Doctor Arroyoâ€™s insistence on his staying in Sickbay, he wanted to be on the Bridge for this. This was where he should be. If this worked, he could rest later. If this didnâ€™t...

He didnâ€™t want to think about what might happen if it didnâ€™t. Unconsciously, his right hand touched the lump in the left breast pocket of his uniform, over his heart. When they got out of here, there were a few things he intended to do. Right now, he concentrated on what needed to be done now. The now-familiar ache in the center of his chest nagged at him, but he pushed it aside. If this worked, he had all the time in the world.

**********

Travis Mayweather rubbed his eyes and focused on his scanners. â€œCaptain, the Romulans are going into attack formation.â€ 

â€œActivate defense systems,â€ Hoshi ordered calmly from the center seat. â€œLieutenant Archer, send orders to the fleet. Commander Phlox, implement restart sequence.â€

As arranged, _Enterprise_ and Alpha fleet moved into defensive positions as _Columbia_ and Beta fleet shut down their primary systems. The Romulans chose that moment to fire, but _Enterprise_ and the Vulcan fleet repelled the initial attack. Tâ€™Pauâ€™s destroyers timed their shots down to the second; the Romulans hastily scattered to avoid the powerful lasers.

â€œDefense rating down to seventy-eight percent,â€ rasped Trip Tucker from the Tac station.

â€œArm torpedoes, full spread,â€ Hoshi replied. She heard Trip relay the order to Lieutenant Trace in the Armory. â€œFire.â€

Seconds later, the torpedoes smashed into the Romulanâ€™s front lines. One of their ships fizzled briefly as its cloak failed; Tâ€™Pauâ€™s lasers cut into the damage _Enterprise_ had done, redoubling it. That ship exploded, its hull a dark shadow against the fireball in space. A second Romulan ship went up in flames, but a Vulcan destroyer broke apart in turn.

â€œTime!â€ Hoshi snapped.

â€œTen more seconds,â€ Travis replied. â€œThen an additional two minutes for Andorian and Tellarite ship restart, four for _Columbia_.â€

She nodded, although the restart times were still too long. That was the bad part about Phloxâ€™s plan, but it was the best out of many poor options. If _Enterprise_ and _Surak_ could stall them long enough...the deck rocked under her feet as if punctuating that grim thought.

â€œMinor damage to Decks C and D,â€ Trip replied. â€œDamage control teams are responding.â€

Hoshi forced herself not to look at the chronometer. It was still taking too long.

And to make matters worse, Travisâ€™s quiet voice brought bad news. â€œCaptain Sato, the Romulansâ€™ reinforcements just appeared on the edge of sensor range.â€

**********

â€œHow much longer?â€ Gral demanded. 

â€œOne minute...mark!â€ answered his science officer.

Gral pounced on his comm. â€œEngineering?â€

â€œAlmost there, sir!â€ shouted the voice of Trux, the _Hâ€™wande_ â€™s chief engineer. â€œFifty seconds.â€

And the _Hâ€™wande_ â€™s deck rocked again as one of the Vulcan destroyers intercepted a Romulan torpedo meant for the Tellaritesâ€™ starboard nacelle. Gral swore again and shouted back, â€œWe might not _have_ fifty seconds!â€

**********

â€œThirty seconds, Captain!â€ 

â€œSteady,â€ Shran said. â€œSteady.â€ He punched the comm button. â€œHelm, one-quarter impulse as soon as we can do so.â€

The helmsman glanced over his shoulder with a confused expression. â€œCaptain? Weâ€™re not going to warp?â€

â€œ _Enterprise_ will be vulnerable when she shuts down her systems, Shevas. We are not abandoning her in her time of need.â€ A small smile graced Shranâ€™s lips. â€œBesides, my Soul-Brother would kill me if his mate dies, and if we save her, he will owe me one.â€

**********

â€œSystem restart complete for the Tellarites and Andorians, Captain Hayes. Two minutes for our own systems...mark,â€ reported Daniels. 

â€œAbout damn time,â€ Hayes muttered as he hit the comm. â€œGral, Shran, get your people out of here, now!â€

Daniels studied his scanner, a calm center even while Columbia still shuddered around them. â€œThe _Hâ€™wande_ and the Tellarites have gone to warp, as well as _Asahari_ and...Captain, _Kumari_ â€™s still here. They arenâ€™t moving.â€

â€œWhat?â€ Hayes exploded. He switched channels and demanded, â€œShran, get your ass out of here before _I_ blow it out of the sky!â€

The Andorianâ€™s sarcastic voice answered, â€œYouâ€™re going to need some help, Matthew, if you want your woman back in one piece. I have shields; you donâ€™t.â€

â€œDammit, Shranâ€”â€œ Hayes noticed that Shran had referred to him by name, which usually _wasnâ€™t_ a good thing. Heâ€™d learned that on Andoria. The bridge lights flickered twice and a console to his right sparked and went dead. Maybe Shran had a point.

â€œOne minute, twenty seconds,â€ Daniels reported, but the science officerâ€™s tone betrayed a glimmer of worry that Hayes agreed with completely.

**********

â€œCaptain Sato, message from _Shenandoah_. Theyâ€™re approaching us at high warp.â€ 

Hoshi nodded. â€œJon, tell Captain Greer to wait at these coordinatesâ€”â€œ she nodded at Travis, who worked his console. â€œ-If he comes any closer, heâ€™ll hit the dampening field and be stuck like we are. If this works, weâ€™ll be able to rendezvous with him.â€ Archer nodded and began composing the message.

â€œCaptain, defense ratingâ€™s down to fifty-nine percent,â€ Trip said with a slight cough. â€œThe Tellarites and most of the Andorians have warped to safetyâ€”â€œ

â€œMost?â€ Hoshi demanded. â€œWhoâ€™s still here?â€

As if in answer, _Kumari_ screamed out of nowhere and took a Romulan laser bolt on its own shields. _Enterprise_ rocked in the dispersal waves.

â€œIs he crazy?â€ Hoshi burst out. â€œThe dampening fieldâ€™ll take hold of him again in a matter of momentsâ€”â€œ

â€œ _Kumari_ â€™s systems are already showing the strain,â€ Travis reported grimly. â€œEight minutes, ten minutes max, and theyâ€™ll be stuck in the water again.â€ Another alarm beeped, â€œ _Surak_ â€™s undergone system shutdown themselves. _Columbia_ â€™s back up.â€

â€œPhlox?â€ Hoshi asked.

â€œSystem shutdown in sixty seconds, Captain.â€

She shook her head as she watched _Columbia_ join _Kumari_ â€™s defense formation. Shran and Matt were crazy, risking themselves and their crews this way. Both men were alike in that they seemed they both had a death wish.

Then the lights around her went dark and she waited in utter blackness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont earn money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t earn money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: This is the next-to-the-last chapter, but hardly the end of the story. Enterprise and Columbia must deal with the fallout of their run-in with the Romulans and the Suliban. There will be some future conflicts with the Vulcans and the Andorians and there will be some life-changing decisions made as a result of all this.  
  
Please leave me a review...it encourages me to develop this AU and its various storylines and plots. :) And if you have any questions or story ideas, please PM or e-mail me!  
  
Rating: T  


* * *

**Fifteen**

It was the longest four minutes of Hoshi Satoâ€™s life.  
 _Enterprise_ was blind, deaf and dumb, wholly dependent on the Vulcans, Shranâ€™s _Kumari_ and Matt Hayesâ€™s _Columbia_ for its defense. The viewscreen was black; the Bridgeâ€™s soothing sounds completely absent. Hoshi mentally ticked off the seconds, but it was still too long.

The rumble of space battle echoed through the halls. She began to shiver in the cold, but she convinced herself it was just her imagination. _Environmental control will kick in soon; just be patient. You practice martial arts...this is no different._

â€œTwo minutes,â€ came Travisâ€™s voice from the science station.

â€œCommunications coming back online,â€ echoed Jon.

â€œHull integrity at forty-five percent,â€ reported Trip. A spate of hoarse coughing racked his body and she turned to see him wipe something from the corner of his mouth. â€œWeâ€™re down to two, maybe three torpedo shots, aft phase cannons are gonna need a complete overhaulâ€”â€œ

â€œTrip!â€ Hoshi cried in alarm as he slumped at his station. Ensign Tâ€™Pol leaped over the railing and caught him before he tumbled out of his chair. Hoshi had never seen her move so fast before; Hoshi glanced over at the helm to confirm that Ensign Di Falco had moved into Tâ€™Polâ€™s spot. â€œTâ€™Pol, take over Tactical. Jon, get Malcolm up here.â€

The sound of air blowers hummed softly, then Hoshiâ€™s stomach flipped as full gravity returned. A disturbing thought came to her: If Trip was this ill, what about Malcolm, and Matt Hayes, on _Columbia_?

â€œOne minute, fifteen seconds. Sensors coming back online,â€ Travis reported. The deck rocked again hard, nearly dislodging Travis from his seat. â€œRemind me to request Phlox to install seat belts on the Bridge.â€

â€œIâ€™ll be sure to second that,â€ Jon commented from his station. A panel close to him short-circuited in a hail of sparks; he waved smoke from his face as another one of the bridge crew grabbed a fire extinguisher and doused the panel with foam. The acrid smell hung in the air and made Hoshiâ€™s eyes water.

â€œForty five seconds,â€ Travis echoed.

Jon pressed the transtator deeper into his ear. â€œReport from _Columbia_. Theyâ€™ve lost both of their forward phase cannons. Their hull integrity is below fifty percent.â€

â€œTell Captain Hayes and Captain Shran to get out of here, now, and if they donâ€™t listen, I will come over and _personally_ kick their asses,â€ Hoshi ordered through gritted teeth. She swung around in her seat. â€œEnsign Di Falco, prepare to go to warp as soon as possible after we regain full power. Ensign Tâ€™Pol, status of the Vulcan ships?â€

â€œAll of them have gone to warp, except _Surak_. _Surak_ is firing at one of the Romulan ships. Firing a second time. Direct hit on the Romulanâ€™s port engine. Their cloak is failing.â€ Tâ€™Polâ€™s voice was calm, unemotional. â€œ _Surak_ has just lost aft shielding; _Columbia_ has moved into a defensive position behind _Surak_. _Kumari_ â€™s systems are beginning to buckle...now their port and starboard shielding has failed...â€ She raised her eyebrows. â€œ _Columbia_ has activated transporter beamsâ€”â€œ

â€œTravis,â€ Hoshi said, warning in her voice. Her nails dug scratches in the arms of her command chair.

â€œFifteen seconds, Captainâ€”â€œ

â€œ _Kumari_ â€™s warp field containment is fluctuatingâ€”â€œ

The viewscreen came back on to reveal the crippled _Kumari_ , swooping in a suicide run towards a Romulan ship. Just as _Enterprise_ â€™s defensive systems came back on-line, it collided with a Romulan ship, and both went up in a spectacular fireball. Debris pounded _Enterprise_ , but then Phloxâ€™s voice erupted from the speakers.

â€œRestart sequence complete! Warp engines online!â€

â€œGet us out of here, Di Falco, maximum warp!â€ Hoshi ordered. The viewscreen jumped as the helmsman hit the warp controls. The abrupt transition into warp threw the Bridge crew around as the inertial dampeners fought to compensate. Hoshi felt her head hit the deck and she lay there, stunned for a moment, as the ship groaned around her.

Eventually, the chaos righted itself. Hoshi opened her eyes, her first thought being, Weâ€™re still in one piece. Aloud, she asked, â€œIs everyone all right?â€

â€œOuch,â€ muttered Travis from the upper deck. â€œWe definitely need those seat belts.â€ He staggered back into his chair. â€œDamage reports coming in, Captain. Hull integrity compromised, B and C deck, starboard quarter, but emergency bulkheads are holding. Injuries coming in from all decks.â€

Hoshi turned her headâ€”slowly, painfullyâ€”to see Tâ€™Pol finally push herself up from where sheâ€™d thrown herself over Tripâ€™s body and shielded him from the worst of the turbulence. Her long blonde-brown hair spilled out of its neat crown and covered Tripâ€™s chest. Hoshiâ€™s heart leaped into her throat as she saw the anguish in Tâ€™Polâ€™s eyes as the Vulcan checked Tripâ€™s vital signs.

â€œWe need Malcolm,â€ Tâ€™Pol whispered hoarsely. â€œWe need him _now_.â€

The turbolift doors opened and the medical personnel spilled out, led by Lieutenant Cutler. The medicâ€™s forehead sported a fresh gash across it, and her left hand was bandaged. Cutler took one look over the Bridge and efficiently directed her people to where they were needed. She moved towards Hoshi, but Hoshi waved her in Tripâ€™s direction.

â€œCaptain?â€ Cutler asked.

â€œSee to Lieutenant Commander Tucker. Whereâ€™s Doctor Reed?â€

â€œUnconscious in Sickbay. That last jolt threw him against a bulkhead.â€ Cutlerâ€™s voice was harsh and angry, but it wasnâ€™t directed at Hoshi. She nodded at Tâ€™Pol and added, â€œEnsign, we donâ€™t have time to wait for a stretcher; can you carry him to Sickbay?â€

â€œCertainly, Lieutenant.â€ Tâ€™Pol carefully scooped Trip up in her arms. Hoshi blinked; she knew Vulcans were strong, but it was disconcerting to see a man of Tripâ€™s size being easily carried by a petite woman like Tâ€™Pol. Cutler thought so, too; the medicâ€™s mouth dropped as Tâ€™Pol moved to the turbolift with no indication of strain on the Vulcanâ€™s part. Cutler followed at a run.

Travis blinked and shook his head. â€œNow _thatâ€™s_ a weird sight.â€ He carefully braced himself with one arm as he went on, â€œ _Shenandoah_ and _Liberty_ are approaching us.â€

â€œ _Surak_ and _Columbia_?â€ Hoshi asked, as she slowly lowered herself back into her command chair.

â€œBoth in one piece. _Columbia_ â€™s not in much better shape than us, though.â€ Travis paused as a medic ran a scanner over him, then continued, â€œ _Surak_ â€™s a tough ship, but theyâ€™ve completely lost shielding and two of their five torpedo launch bays.â€

â€œNo sign of pursuit?â€

â€œNone, maâ€™am. They havenâ€™t followed us.â€

Hoshi closed her eyes and sighed in relief. Theyâ€™d gotten out of there by the skin of their teeth, but at what cost? Two of her officers had been captured by the Romulans, and returned, and _Enterprise_ was barely keeping together. _Columbia_ had nearly lost their commanding officer...permanently. _Kumari_ had been destroyed, with no report yet if Shran had survived. Mistrust and political intrigue between the Humans and the Vulcans concerning the Romulans. First contact with the Suliban, abruptly lost with Silikâ€™s disappearance.

And there was still the matter of the attack on Palmyra Three and Space Station Salem One, the event that had sparked all this in the first place.

It was going to be a _long_ trip back to Earth.

**********

**Captainâ€™s Personal Log, April 12, 2155**

_Enterprise_ is limping back to Earth, accompanied by an honor guard consisting of the _Hâ€™wande_ , the Andorian cruiser _Venarii_ , and the _Surak_ , with the _Shenandoah_ , _Liberty_ and _Montana_. Starfleet Command wants us back in San Francisco for debriefings. I have the feeling that Starfleet Intelligence will want to pick our brains for every shred of information about what happened out there.

The Romulans have made it clear that they consider us a threat and it wouldnâ€™t surprise me if Earth decides to go on the offensive. That will mean that _Enterprise_ , _Columbia_ and her sister ships will be on the front lines.

At least one good thing has come out of this: the Andorians and Tellarites are interested in some kind of mutual defense pact with Earth. They still donâ€™t like each other much, but this greater threat has had the effect of rearranging their priorities. The Vulcans have been oddly silent about a similar defense pact; I suppose Minister Tâ€™Pau and High Minister Vâ€™Lar have a lot to discuss with the High Command and the High Council.

Weâ€™ve been lucky not to lose any of the crew in this incident. Both Trip and Malcolm are recovering from their injuries in Sickbay. Lieutenant Cutler and Lieutenant Trace are adamant that their respective Chiefs stay put. I think Tâ€™Polâ€™s enforcing their rest time; Tripâ€™s complained of her being â€˜a mother henâ€™.

Shran and most of his crew were beamed off _Kumari_ , with a handful of loyal soldiers staying behind. Shran said that he would have much preferred to have gone down with his ship, but considering he wasnâ€™t conscious at the time to make the choice, it was taken out of his hands. Personally, Iâ€™m glad Shran survived; Iâ€™ve gotten quite fond of this crusty Andorian.

And Matt...heâ€™s asked if he could come aboard to discuss shipâ€™s business. I can tell he isnâ€™t looking forward to the firestorm of controversy back home, but of course, he hardly shows it to his crew. This whole affair has a lot of complications...and itâ€™ll mean that weâ€™ll have our hands full for the foreseeable future.

**********

â€œ...I heard that Engineering Research and Developmentâ€™s already talking about installing some new systems on _Enterprise_ and _Columbia_ when we get to Earth,â€ Hoshi commented. â€œMostly in the area of weaponry and defensive capabilities.â€ 

Matt Hayes nodded and swirled the wine in his glass. â€œRumor has it weâ€™re actually gonna get some kind of shielding. Shran wondered why everyone seems to have it except us, and he wanted to â€˜correct that as soon as possibleâ€™. Thatâ€™s a direct quote.â€

â€œGood to know that Shranâ€™s definitely on our side.â€

â€œYeah. He isnâ€™t bad, once you get to know him.â€ He sighed and put the wine glass down on the table. â€œHe told me that Talas is still pretty ticked off at Trip for what he did. Granted, Trip wasnâ€™t exactly himself when he fought her, but...sheâ€™s got a personal grudge against him now. Once her antennae grows back, sheâ€™s vowed to ask for a rematch. Shranâ€™s trying to talk her out of it.â€

Hoshi rubbed her temples. â€œWonderful.â€

â€œI donâ€™t think itâ€™ll come to anything, though. There were at least fifteen witnesses to the _ushaan_ and they can all confirm that honor was satisfied by the end of it.â€ He raised his eyebrows. â€œAnd honor is important to them.â€

She managed a smile. â€œIâ€™m glad to hear weâ€™ve still got a few honorable beings in the universe.â€

He chuckled and reached for her hand. â€œThere are a few.â€

Hoshi looked down at their entwined hands and squeezed his. â€œMatt, Iâ€™m glad youâ€™re back in one piece. When Nate Kemper told us youâ€™d been taken...and then when your heart stopped in _Columbia_ â€™s Sickbay, I couldnâ€™t breathe. I thought Iâ€™d lost you.â€

â€œIâ€™m a lot more stubborn than you think, Hoshi. You can ask Trip and Nate about that.â€ He held her gaze. â€œI donâ€™t remember much of my time over there...they were pretty rough on me, and they wanted me to reveal certain information...they kept getting my rank wrong, so they didnâ€™t know everything about us. All I could think about was protecting my crew...and you.â€

She blushed under his intense stare and dropped her eyes. â€Iâ€”â€œ

â€œHoshi, I shouldâ€™ve done this a long time ago.â€

The tone of his voice made her look up again. â€œWhat?â€  
He got up from his seat, and knelt on one knee before her, still holding her hand. With practiced ease, he unzipped the breast pocket of his uniform and drew out a velvet box. She stared at him, a lump in her throat, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. _Oh my God. I donâ€™t believe this,_ she thought, her heart hammering in her chest. _I donâ€™t believe heâ€™s doing this._

â€œHoshi, I love you. I always have and I always will.â€ His hazel-green eyes met her brown ones. He flipped the box open to reveal a single diamond set within a platinum band. â€œWill you marry me?â€

She blinked, blinked again, blinked a third time. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Hoshi Sato, a woman who spoke over thirty languages, and the captain of Earthâ€™s first Warp 5 starship, was completely speechless.

So she didnâ€™t speak.

She pulled Matt Hayes into her arms and kissed him soundly on the lips.

**********

â€œYou need what?!â€ 

Malcolm Reedâ€™s head shot up as he heard Trip Tuckerâ€™s shout of surprise. _What in the bloody hellâ€™s got him so worked up this time? For Godâ€™s sake, he doesnâ€™t need more excitement at the moment!_ He stalked toward the curtain surrounding Tripâ€™s biobed, but the next words brought him up short.

â€œI need a best man.â€

â€œYou meanâ€”â€œ There was a pause as Trip put two and two together. â€œIâ€™ll be damned. You finally went ahead and did it, you sly dog! And she actually said yes?â€

â€œItâ€™s official.â€

Trip laughed in genuine delight. â€œYa owe me a drink at the 602 when we get back to Earth. In fact, ya owe me several. Eight yearsâ€™ or so worth.â€

â€œThat many? I donâ€™t recall making that bet eight years agoâ€”â€œ

â€œYou said, and I quote, â€˜If I ever end up marryinâ€™ her instead of killinâ€™ her, I will pay for a drink for each year of my bachelorhood till then.â€™â€

â€œI mustâ€™ve been already drunk when I said that because I donâ€™t remember ever making that statement in your presence, Mister Tucker.â€

â€œAsk Nate Kemper. _He_ was there. And I believe Ambassador Soval was sittinâ€™ at the table right behind us. You go ask him, anâ€™ you know Vulcans donâ€™t lie.â€

â€œIs that a dare? Fine, Iâ€™ll ask Soval. Heâ€™ll probably say that youâ€™re just trying to get me to pay for eight extra drinks...â€

Malcolm didnâ€™t hear much of the conversation after that. He closed his eyes in pain as the news sank in. Of course, she didnâ€™t know. No one did. Heâ€™d never told her...after all, heâ€™d only known her for less than six months, and she was his commanding officer, for Godâ€™s sake. Sheâ€™d known _him_ for eleven years, theyâ€™d been through so much together, sheâ€™d nearly lost him more times than he could count, and now...

Malcolm had lost her.

_Face it, you sod, you never had her in the first place. Now you never will._ The corner of his mouth went up in a bitter smirk. _Hayes was right in my dream._

He turned and quickly walked away, as Trip Tuckerâ€™s and Matt Hayes's laughter rang through his Sickbay.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Dont own em, dont make money off em.

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: Donâ€™t own â€˜em, donâ€™t make money off â€˜em.  
  
Notes: This is the last chapter, but the next story is in the works:) The repercussions of the first run-in with the Romulans will be far-reaching, not only for Hoshi Satoâ€™s crew, but for several planets and cultures as well.  
  
Please leave a review! Thanks much!  
  
Rating: T  
  


* * *

****

Sixteen

â€œI suppose congratulations are in order, Hoshi.â€

She chuckled at Admiral Max Forrestâ€™s image; her mentor had a bemused grin, but she noticed it didn't meet his eyes. She knew he'd been under so much pressure from Starfleet and its allies, and she felt a stab of pity for him. â€œI wasnâ€™t expecting it, Max. It was a complete surprise to me too.â€

Forrest sighed and shook his head. â€œMattâ€™s always been a maverick in some things; I donâ€™t think I shouldâ€™ve been surprised, but...â€

Hoshi sobered at her former COâ€™s expression. â€œI read the preliminary orders. Starfleet Command wants all of us, but especially Matt, Trip and Malcolm in debriefing sessions, while _Enterprise_ and _Columbia_ are refittedâ€”â€œ

â€œI hate to say it, Hoshi, but itâ€™s either going to be a long engagement or a short honeymoon. The last thing I want to do is separate you and Matt for an undefined period of time, but Earthâ€™s on high alert in the wake of your run-in with these Romulans.â€ Forrest glanced down at the PADD on his desk, then back up at Hoshi. â€œ _Enterprise_ will be in drydock for the shortest time we can spare, and weâ€™re going to have to send _Columbia_ out while youâ€™re stuck there, after Spacedock patches up her battle damage. Then itâ€™ll be _Columbia_ â€™s turn for refit while youâ€™re out on patrol.â€

Her smile was tinged with sadness. â€œShips that pass in the night. Matt and Iâ€™ve discussed it, Max. We know our duty and weâ€™ll do it, no matter what.â€

His face softened. â€œThank you, both of you. So, tell me, will you need me to officiate?â€

She chuckled. â€œI wouldnâ€™t ask anyone else to do it, Max. Would you?â€

â€œJust be sure to give me at least twelve hours notice, okay? I donâ€™t want to hear that two of Starfleetâ€™s finest captains decided to elope at the last minute.â€

â€œWonâ€™t happen. Mattâ€™s mother would kill him, and my parents would disown me.â€ Hoshi smiled again and added, â€œThanks.â€

â€œAnytime, Hoshi. Forrest, out.â€

Hoshi took a deep breath and reorganized her thoughts. There was so much to do before they arrived at Earth and faced the dragons in their Starfleet den. She reached over and hit the comm button. â€œCommander Mayweather, Lieutenant Archer, report to my Ready Room, please.â€

**********

Ensign Tâ€™Pol gazed at the flame of her candle and watched the colors within it. Her mind craved the solitude of meditation; she focused on the Vulcan koan, â€œThe needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few, or the one.â€ Surak knew the honors and dangers of self-sacrifice, for it had been through his death that the Vulcan clans had been united. 

She wished she had the kind of courage. Her loyalties had been fostered since birth, but now they were sorely tested. The needs of the many. What would happen to Vulcan if Tâ€™Maruiâ€™s and Tâ€™Lesâ€™s information became general knowledge? That the _Vâ€™tosh kaâ€™tur_ and the _Iâ€™Rhiamanau_ had been the ancestors of the ones who threatened Earth now? What would happen to the friendship between her home and Earth? It would not withstand the strain of paranoia and suspicion, for the splinter groups like Terra Prime were still in existence. The alliance would fall apart.

The needs of the few. What about her loyalty to Starfleet and Captain Sato? She knew that Earth would not be able to repel the Romulan threat by itself. _Enterprise_ was her crew and sheâ€™d taken a vow to protect her crewmates.

The needs of the one. What about herself? In a mere few months, she had found a purpose here, a place of safety, one that had eluded her for all the years sheâ€™d spent on Vulcan. What did she owe Hoshi Sato and her crew? Her friendships with Malcolm Reed, Jonathan Archer, and Trip Tucker were her lifelines. Did she want to sever those ties? Lose their trust?

What should she do? Betray Vulcan or betray _Enterprise_? Why must she make the choice?

And Lieutenant Commander Tucker...Trip...she felt some connection with him, one that she didnâ€™t understand, but one she desired. The admission surprised and intrigued her. Why? She could not say, but perhaps with more analysis, she might find the answer to that question.

Eventually, she found herself drawn back to her surroundings, to her physical body, long before her session usually ended. Tâ€™Pol was disoriented for a moment, then she realized someone stood quietly just inside the door of her quarters. Why hadnâ€™t she heard the presence before now? She glanced over her shoulder and realized why she hadnâ€™t.

â€œMalcolm,â€ she said in a quiet voice.

Malcolm Reed inclined his head. â€œTâ€™Pol. Forgive the interruption.â€

â€œThere is nothing to forgive,â€ she replied automatically. â€œWhat can I do for you?â€

â€œI require your advice and your discreet ear,â€ he answered. His eyes, normally blue-gray, were dark in the shadows, and Tâ€™Pol saw the glimmer of inner pain within them. â€œYou are the only one whom I can talk to, for this is...personal.â€

â€œCome, sit down, Malcolm, and I will listen.â€ She gestured towards the second meditation cushion and folded her long legs under her. â€œWhat troubles you?â€

He sat across from her and clasped his hands together. Then he told her everything. She forced herself not to react to his revelations, for sheâ€™d heard the news from the shipâ€™s rumor mill. Her heart ached for him, but she maintained a cool indifference while he talked.

â€œMy heart grieves for thee,â€ she finally said.

His eyes flashed. â€œDonâ€™t pity me,â€ he said shortly. â€œSilik told me not to envy him, to allow him whatever joy in the time he had left. Honestly, I donâ€™t know whatâ€™s worse...knowing what the future holds in store for Hayes and Hoshi and stepping aside...or knowing and finding a way to interfere.â€

Tâ€™Pol nodded in sympathy. It was one aspect of Malcolmâ€™s â€œabilityâ€ that weighed heavily upon his soul. Not for the first time, Tâ€™Pol considered his strange extrasensory ability more of a curse than a blessing. â€œBut you have already made your decision. You will not tell them.â€

â€œNo.â€ Malcolm closed his eyes. â€œI canâ€™t and I wonâ€™t. This is one thing I wonâ€™t report to the Circle, to Vâ€™Lar and Tâ€™Pau, in particular. I wonâ€™t let them use it as ammunition against Hoshi, Hayes, or Starfleet in general.â€ He opened his eyes again and added, â€œI am not ungrateful for what theyâ€™ve done for me, mind you, but my faith in their intentions is severely shaken after this.â€

Tâ€™Pol reached over and put her hand on his. â€œKnow that you have at least one ally, Malcolm, and one who faces the same questions. I will keep your secret; if you need to â€˜talkâ€™, as Trip would say, â€˜my door is always openâ€™.â€

His smile was sad, but the bitterness that had tinged it was gone. â€œYouâ€™ve been spending too much time with our intrepid armory officer, Tâ€™Pol.â€

She allowed herself a smile in return. â€œI consider it an...enjoyable indulgence.â€

**********

â€œFor Godâ€™s sake!â€ Trip ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward in his chair. â€œYouâ€™re sayinâ€™...how long?â€

Commander AG Robinson, assistant head of Engineering Research and Development, held up his hands in protest. â€œAt least a month and a half of refit time, Trip, and thatâ€™s cutting it pretty close. Thatâ€™s the estimate based on what Henryâ€™s heard and seen from his Andorian counterpart in Shâ€™Lienuy. We canâ€™t afford to take both _Enterprise_ and _Columbia_ off the front lines at the same time, so _Enterprise_ â€™ll be in drydock first. _Columbia_ â€™s gonna get her repairs, but then Forrestâ€™s sending her out on patrol again.â€

Commander Phloxâ€™s expression was just as grim. â€œIt makes sense, from a strategic point of view, but I donâ€™t relish the thought of sending _Columbia_ on her own.â€

AG sighed and shrugged. â€œ _Columbia_ â€™s going to have _Montana, Shenandoah_ and _Zula_ with her, and Captain Shranâ€™s insisted on joining them with a small Andorian patrol consisting of cruisers and corsairs. So Captain Hayes will have plenty of firepower and backup at his disposal. Phlox, youâ€™ll be happy to know that weâ€™ll be outfitting _Enterprise_ and _Columbia_ with decent shield technology based on Andorian and Vulcan specs. And Trip, your complaining about the limited armaments on _Enterprise_ finally made a dent in Weapons R &Dâ€™s minds. I think theyâ€™ve got some things to show you when you guys arrive here on Earth.â€

â€œAbout damn time,â€ Trip grumbled, but he smiled as he said it. â€œWhat about the Vulcans?â€

AG rolled his eyes. â€œTheir Space and Ship Operations are working in overdrive, Trip. They have been for some time now. If you ask me, I think they mightâ€™ve suspected something was gonna happen and planned accordingly. Didnâ€™t know the Vulcans had precognition as one of their talents, but, well, it even took Henry by surprise. And Henry doesnâ€™t surprise very easily.â€

â€œHas Admiral Archer voiced his concerns to the Vulcan High Command?â€ Phlox asked.

â€œHe has, but I donâ€™t think theyâ€™ve listened. Henryâ€™s planning on having his son by his side when he talks to them next...maybe Jon can get through their stubborn hides when normal diplomacy canâ€™t.â€

Despite the situation, Trip burst out laughing and Phlox allowed himself a grin. â€œYeah, count on Jon to bypass Vulcan stubborness.â€

â€œWell, weâ€™ve got yet another meeting to get to, so I gotta run...but call me as soon as you two can make it to Engineering R&D. We need to start doing this ASAP.â€

â€œBe assured that we will, AG,â€ Phlox said. â€œThank you.â€

â€œNo problem. Starfleet Command, out.â€ AG winked, then his image disappeared from the screen.

Phlox glanced at Trip, his brows knitted in concern. â€œI believe AG is worried, or did I not interpret his body language correctly?â€

Trip shook his head and sat back in his seat. All traces of humor had fled. â€œNope, you nailed it just right, Phlox. Thereâ€™s a lot AG wasnâ€™tâ€”or couldnâ€™t beâ€”tellinâ€™ us. I expected this Romulan thingâ€™s got Starfleet Command in a tizzy, but...â€

â€œDo you think there will be trouble at Starfleet Headquarters?â€ Phlox asked, his characteristic Denobulan grin quickly vanishing.

Tripâ€™s smile vanished too. â€œI hate to say it, but I got a bad feelinâ€™ about this.â€


End file.
